SnapeSummer
by Silent Shadow
Summary: Due to the danger after Voldemort's return, Dumbledore decides that Harry has to spend the summer with a Hogwarts teacher. And it's sod's law that the only one who can take him is Snape... A little bit of everything (no slash)and a double dose of humour.
1. Snape????!!!!!!

(First of all I want to make it known that this fic was the product of TWO minds, mine and psychicpikachu.

Second the Disclaimer.

Ie. That all Harry Potter characters belong to J.K Rowling and whoever else (or not as the case may be.) I only own the plot and the events.

Next, I dedicate this fic to Lucy and Sophie, 2 of my bestest friends.

Please Please review I LOOOOOOOOOVE it whrn I get reviews.

Now On to the fic.......)

Chapter 1 - Snape....?????!!!! 

The flowerbeds were colourful and leafy, the air was warm, and the sky above was pure blue. It was a beautiful summers day. But as the car pulled into the driveway of Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry inwardly groaned at the thought of two whole months with the Dursleys. He heaved his trunk out of the car boot, and dragged it to the doorstep.

Suddenly, there was a commotion from the Dursleys behind him, such a screaming and shouting as he had never heard before. He whirled around, hand on his wand, and gaped.

Standing in the driveway was Professor Snape.

He was dressed in what was obviously his attempt to stay as close to wizard robes as possible without attracting suspicion. He wore a black trenchcoat, black Doc Martens, black jeans and a black t-shirt. It was obvious to Harry why Aunt Petunia was screaming. Snape, with his sallow skin, greasy hair, and naturally menacing sneer, looked more like a hitman than anything else.

"Come on Potter, I haven't got all day." Said Snape.

Harry finally managed to shut his mouth. "What, Professor?"

"Dumbledore has decided you are to spend the summer at Snape Manor with me. I will explain further at the house." From his expression, Snape was clearly as happy with this as Harry was. "Hurry up, Potter." He said, shooting a distasteful look at Aunt Petunia's pansies. "Are all your things in that trunk?"

Harry nodded dumbly. He had all of his (very few) muggle clothes in his trunk anyway.

"You carry your owl." Said Snape, taking Harry's trunk. Reaching inside his robes, he pulled out a large golden key. "It's a Portkey. When you're ready, Potter." Harry, with one last look at the screaming Dursleys, took a firm hold of Hedwig's cage and grabbed hold of the Portkey.

The world went suddenly dark, and he felt the all too familiar tug behind his navel. He tried in vain not to think of the last time he'd touched a Portkey. But unbidden, he heard again Voldemort's voice, saw again Cedric's body…

…And then he fell on the ground with a thud.

He was sitting on the ground in the middle of a dark moor. He shook his head, chasing away the memories that assailed him.

"Potter?" said Snape. "Come on, boy, the manor is up there." Harry stood, and they began to walk up a hill. On the top, he could see a huge, imposing building. This, he supposed, was Snape Manor.

Summer with Snape. Two whole months. The very thought was worse than the Dursleys.

The front door of the manor was huge. It was made of mahogany wood, and covered with carvings of famous witches and wizards. Snape took out a large silver key and opened the door.

Inside, there was a huge gloomy hall, with a huge sweeping staircase, which split into two directions halfway up. The hall was lit by candlelight, and Harry thought it looked darker in here than it did on the moor.

"Welcome to Snape Manor." Said Snape. "Come this way. The house elves have opened one of the unused rooms near mine for you to use." Most of the doors were closed and Harry thought he saw a scurrying house- elf. Snape was already sweeping up the stairs, levitating his trunk now that they were out of sight of the muggles.

If we are to proceed with this – this arrangement, and I sincerely hope, Mister Potter, that another place for you to stay can be found soon, we must lay down some ground rules." Said Snape. "First, never enter my room except in an emergency – and I mean a real emergency, Potter – and then knock, please, before entering. I, of course, shall extend the same courtesy to you. Try to keep out of my way and I will keep out of yours. I am a very busy man and I cannot afford to waste time tripping over you. Breakfast is at nine, Lunch at one, and dinner at seven. The house elves shall call you for meals. Come down too late, and you shall be making your own. Stay quiet at night, and above all, do NOT enter the closed up rooms of the house. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor."

"This," said Snape, pausing outside a gloomy door "Is my room. Your room is a little further down." He walked on past six or so doors, till he came to a door that was slightly smaller and newer than the rest. "Here is your room." He said, dumping Harry's things on the floor and sweeping away. Harry opened the door and gasped.


	2. A Nightmare in Snape Manor

The disclaimer still applies and once again it is dedicated to Sophie and Lucy.

pshcicpikachu and I wrote it so on with the story........

A note from the authors here. Harry had to stay with snape because to stay with the Dursleys was too dangerous. Dumbledore too obvious and dangerous, the same for McGonagall, The Weasleys were too obvious, and Snape and harry are known to hate each other so no-one would look for him there!. Again PLZ REVIEW!!!!!

Chapter2 : A Nightmare in Snape Manor.

The room was huge. There was a large mahogany four-poster bed in front of him, with navy covers. Taking up most of one wall was a big window looking out over the moor, with a large window seat below. A desk and chair were below, with an ink pot and parchment all neatly laid out. The whole room was painted deep blue.

Magnificent as it was, the thought of staying with SNAPE of all people was awful.

Weakly, Harry opened his trunk and unpacked his clothes, hanging them neatly in a wardrobe. He sat down at the desk – noticing that the chair was very comfortable – and began to write to Ron, saying where he was and some choice comments about Snape. He finished by asking Ron to send his note on to Hermione with Pig, and to send Hedwig to Sirius with another note.

"Feel up to a long journey, Hedwig?" asked Harry. She hooted in response. "Ok, take these letters to Ron's house. Then he'll give you one, and take it to Sirius."

She hooted again, and Harry tied the note to her leg, and sent her off into the cold night.

Tired, he collapsed onto his bed and stared at the top of his four-poster. How on earth was he supposed to survive the summer?

The clock on the wall said ten. Dinner had been roast chicken, which was really quite nice, although they had sat in a tense silence. Harry had eaten quickly to avoid Snape.

Having nothing better to do, Harry decided to go to sleep. Hedwig hadn't returned, but by now she was probably on her way to Sirius. Or was she? How far was it from Snapes house to Rons? It could be miles for all he knew. Suddenly, he felt extremely isolated. He wished he had someone to talk to, anyone but Snape. Even the Dursleys would be better.

He changed into pyjamas, and placed his glasses on the desk. Then he slipped into the four-poster. A wave of exhaustion overtook him, and he fell asleep.

_Cedric was advancing towards him. "Harry…" _

_Harry backed away, trying to explain. "I'm sorry…I didn't know…" _

_Cedric's form was smoky and vague now. "You killed me…YOU! You…" _

_"No, it wasn't me!" he pleaded, "I didn't know…" _

_But now Cedric was changing shape, he became Voldemort, pointing his wand at him with a cold smile. Harry was running, he could see Cedric's body in front of him. _

_"Avada Kedavra!" _

_He threw himself on the ground, grasping for the cup and Cedric's wrist… _

Thump. Harry was jerked into wakefulness. Dazed, he stared at the room around him. He had somehow fallen on the floor.

"Didn't know what, Potter?"

Harry jumped. There was Snape in a dressing gown and black slippers, holding a lighted candle. "Didn't know what?" he repeated.

"N…n…nothing." He stammered. He felt a cold chill run through him. He expected Snape to yell at him for waking him up. Harry started to push himself off the floor, pushing the blanket back onto the bed.

"Nothing? Well, I suggest you get back to sleep, Potter." he said. He swept out of the room, adding "And may I suggest you try the bed? I always find it more comfortable than the floor." He clicked the door shut.

Harry lay in bed, but found he couldn't sleep. As soon as he closed his eyes, he would see Cedric, whispering _'You killed me…'_ He resigned himself to the fact that sleep was useless, stood up dragging his blanket round him, and walked to the window seat.

All night, he sat there, staring out over the moor, wishing he was somewhere else. Preferably at The Burrow with the Weasleys. He drifted into a doze but woke himself up, afraid of seeing Cedric again. His eyes itched with tiredness but he dared not fall asleep, knowing that the nightmare would repeat itself.

REAd? Review please!!!!! 


	3. 'Of Breakfast, Letters, and Omelettes'

Chapter 3 – Meals with Snape, and some letters. 

The house elf came in, dressed in a black pillowcase. "Its time for breakfast in a few minutes, sir." She squeaked. 

Harry thanked the elf, and got changed. He was so tired he could hardly move. He walked down the stairs, and found his way to the breakfast room. 

Snape was already sitting at the table, eating toast. "Ah, Potter. So you finally arrive. You're five minutes late." He bit into his toast.

Harry shrugged, too tired to make a comment, and sat at the table. 

The breakfast room was huge, with a high ceiling and dark blue walls. The sunlight streamed in through two large windows, making this the brightest room Harry had seen so far in the house. The table was circular, and large enough to fit ten people round easily. Harry and Snape sat at opposite ends, as far away as possible. 

Too tired to eat Harry played with his toast and only drank some orange juice the house elf poured out for him. But soon, the after effects of a sleepless night caught up with him, and he slid into a doze on the tabletop.

"Wake up Potter." Harry jerked awake, and mumbled "sorry." "I suggest you go to sleep earlier, Potter." Snape said, scathingly. "Or is there something wrong with the bed?" 

The sight of Snape had ruined what little appetite Harry had had. "I'm not hungry." He said quietly. "I'm going to go to my room." He turned and left. Snape raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. 

The bedroom looked depressing and forbidding. Harry decided he ought to do something useful. He sat at the desk and started on his History of Magic Essay: Explain the Importance of Goblin Riots on Wizard Politics in the 18th Century. Before long, however, his tiredness caught up to him, and he fell asleep. Oblivious to everything, he slept on, not noticing his door opening, or an impatient whisper of "Children!" 

At about 5pm, Harry was awoken suddenly by Hedwig, as she swooped onto his desk. Tied to her leg was the much-welcomed sight of parchment. 

"Thanks Hedwig." Said Harry. He put her in the cage with some fresh water and food. She hooted in gratitude, and began to drink. 

Looking closer, he could see that there were two letters. On one he could see Ron's untidy scrawl: on the other was Sirius's neat handwriting. He tore open Ron's letter first. 

_Dear Harry, _

_ I can't believe that you have to stay with SNAPE!!! What was Dumbledore thinking? You don't think he's finally flipped, do you? I always said he was barmy, this proves it. That overgrown vampire bat! (Snape, not Dumbledore) I can't believe you have to spend all summer with him! He's a complete and total vindictive creep, with worse breath than a hippopotamus, and hair with enough grease to keep a garage supplied for life! _

_Why couldn't Dumbledore have let you come and stay with us? I'm sure Mum and Dad would have let you. Its pretty chaotic here at the moment, but they always let you stay. _

_So, what's it like living with Snape? Bet it's really boring. What's the house like? All dark and grimy? Write to me! _

_ -Ron Weasley _

_P.S. Don't touch anything he gives you! _

Harry laughed to himself as he read the last line. He read Sirius's letter next: 

_Dear Harry, _

_ If I didn't know Dumbledore was a sane man, I would think he had a few screws loose. What was he thinking, sending you to live with that greasy git Severus? He must know what a stupid insane thing this is; it's practically a death sentence for you living under his roof. I will be sending an owl to Dumbledore as soon as I can, you can be assured. Please keep in touch with me, I want to know how you are doing. _

_If Severus touches a hair on your head I will kill him personally. _

_These are dark and dangerous times, Harry. I can only hope that Dumbledore has chosen wisely as to whom to keep you safe. _

_-Sirius. _

Feeling decidedly more cheerful (though slightly unnerved at Sirius's last comment), Harry noticed that having not eaten since breakfast, he was starving. 

Cautiously, he made his way down to the kitchen, keeping an eye out for Snape. It seemed the house was empty; he met no living thing as he crept down the stairs. 

He easily found some ingredients, and was making an omelette when he heard a loud 'pop' behind him. He whirled round, alarmingly conscious of Sirius's letter, and was confronted with… 

…Snape. Not the prettiest sight in the world, but a lot better than a Death Eater. He turned back to the omelette, his heart slowing from the initial shack. 

"My, my. Quite the chef, Potter. If only you could extend the same skills to your Potions work." And with that Snape swept out. 

As Harry heard his footsteps fade away, he wondered again how on earth he was going to get through two months with Snape's sarcasm. 

He ate his omelette, and, still wary of Snape, made his way upstairs. He let Hedwig out to hunt (it was now six o'clock) and flopped onto the bed. 

He decided to finish off his History essay. The time flew by, and soon a house elf appeared and squeaked: "Dinner is ready, sir!" 

Harry groaned inwardly at the thought of another dinner with the Potions Master. He slouched down the stairs and entered the kitchen. 

Snape was already sat and drinking what was presumably wine. He did not acknowledge Harry's presence, merely continued eating. Harry sat down and ate, not hurrying, but savoring the lasagna, determined not to show how Snape made him uneasy. 

The meal progressed in an uneasy silence. Neither spoke until Harry was clearing away his plate, when Snape suddenly spoke. 

"Potter, I shall be absent for all of tomorrow. I trust you are sufficiently mature enough to be left alone." As Harry nodded and turned to go, Snape spoke again. "One more thing. What was all that disturbance last night?" 

Harry mentally died at the thought of **_Snape_** of all people knowing that he had a nightmare. 

So he said "Nothing, Professor." In a would-be casual voice. 

As he turned again, Snape's voice came from behind, "Didn't seem like nothing." 

He tried to read Snape's expression, but saw no sign of any mockery or the usual sarcasm. But Harry's habit of suspicion kicked in, and he said again, more forcefully, "Nothing, nothing at all." 

Snape merely looked at him and raised an eyebrow. 

Harry turned and walked calmly out of the room, although when out of Snape's sight, he scampered up the stairs to safety. 

He worked for a few hours, making a large chart to cross off the days until he would be back at Hogwarts, and then went to bed.


	4. Of A Nightmare and surprises....

The disclaimer still applies from the first chapter, go read it there. 

This fanfic is written jointly by Silent Shadow and psychicpikachu. 

Chapter 4 - Nightmare 

The graveyard was dark and gray, but the air swirled with intent; it knew what was happening. A low fog swept the ground, partially obscuring the gravestones, standing in ranks like some unholy army.

_Harry stood in the mist, unable to move, as the ghost of Cedric again advanced. _

_"It was you… you killed me, Harry…you…" _

_"No… I didn't…I didn't know…It wasn't my fault…please, Cedric! Believe me!" He tried in vain to shout over Cedric's accusations. _

_And then his form melted into smoke, and the cauldron stood in front of Harry, and out of it rose the figure of Lord Voldemort. _

_He looked at Harry, with his cold snake eyes, and spoke. "Thank you, Harry Potter. Now, the protection of your mother is in me." He raised his arms. "I am unstoppable! And it's all thanks to you. Without you, I could never have come back!" _

_He too faded, and then Harry saw two figures. A man and a woman, whose faces he had never seen in the flesh. He had seen them in photos, and in the Mirror of Erised, and they had been two of the shadows to appear from Voldemort's wand… _

_His parents. _

_"Mum!" he shouted. "Dad!" He ran to meet them, panting in his desperation, but as he ran the figures got further and further away, abandoning him again. "Don't leave me again!" he shouted. But they had disappeared. _

_And then, Cho appeared. _

_"You killed Cedric!" she shouted. "If it wasn't for you, he'd still be alive now! You told him to take the Cup with you, it was all your fault!" She walked away into the mist. _

_As Cho's figure faded away he heard the voices of his best friends, Ron and Hermione. He spun around glad to see them; surely THEY wouldn't reproach him for it... _

_ But as he heard what they were saying his heart sank. "Get away from us, Harry!" shouted Ron. "Leave us alone! We KNOW you killed Cedric, We KNOW it was all your fault!" _

_ "No, it isn't true!" he whispered, trying to make them hear him, hardly able to speak as the two best friends he had looked upon him with hatred and loathing, "No it isn't true!" As they closed in on him he felt rather than saw their accusing stares, as they disowned him… _

Harry woke with a start, his heart pounding. His door creaked open, and Snape entered, holding a candle, a flicker of worry flashed across his face, to be replaced by Snape's usual cold look, with a hint of sarcasm. He raised an eyebrow.

"Another attack of nothing, Potter?" 

Harry did not know what to say. "Well I…um…I…er…" 

Snape sighed impatiently. He looked both curious and irritable. "If nothing's bothering you, then stop screaming in the middle of the night. Some of us want to sleep, even if you don't." 

He stood there for a minute, waiting to see if Harry would speak. Harry tries to fill the silence. "I…um…I'm sorry, Professor. He waited, half cringing, for Snape to shout at him, trying to avoid his piercing glare. He was uncomfortably aware of Snape's stare, but was determined to keep his mouth shut. Harry had had the impression before that Snape could read minds, this only reinforced this. Finally Snape spoke. 

"Well, goodnight Potter. I suggest you try to get some sleep. In my experience, beds are a lot more comfortable than kitchen tables." He left the room, clicking the door behind him. 

Harry fell into a fitful doze, but kept jerking awake, seeing visions from his nightmare swim across his vision. 

He walked to the window as he had last night, and sat, staring out over the moor. His mind wandered. Was Cho really angry with him? Did Ron and Hermione really hate him? He opened his trunk and took out a leather-backed book. Inside were the pictures of his parents. He sat up all night, looking through the book, trying not to fall asleep. 

He went down about an hour before breakfast was due, at about eight. The house, thankfully, was empty except for Harry and the house elves, who obligingly made him some breakfast. He only ate a few bites before losing interest. He was exhausted after two whole nights awake, but he felt he couldn't sleep. Bored, tired, with nothing to do, he got up and left the kitchen. 

Harry wandered around for a while, trying to think of something to do, and keeping out of the house elves way. He saw one of the doors was slightly ajar, and inside it was what looked like a sofa. Pushing the door further open with a creak, he concluded that it was a living room. 

The walls were painted dark emerald, and the windows were covered in thick black drapes, letting a bare minimum of light into the room. (This only reinforced Ron's point about Snape being a vampire.) The sofas were covered with black leather. Two large imposing mahogany bookcases stood against the walls, their shelves covered with fat books with titles like "Muggle History of the 17th Century" or "Famous Wizard Trials: Guilty or Innocent?" Harry, uninterested in the books, decided to sit on the sofa for a while and think. 

But no sooner had he sat down, he felt something. Something hard, tucked away down the back of the sofa. Reaching behind him, he pulled out a small book. 

There was little light to see by, but even in the failing streaks of sunlight struggling through the cracks in the drapes, the silver writing on the front of the leather bound book were plain to see. 

_Diary _

__

_Property of Professor S. Snape _

__

__

A/N Cliffhanger! We promise we'll try to get the next part up as soon as possible. As always, please review! 


	5. The Diary

As it is now Written by Silent Shadow and psychicpikachu. 

Chapter 5 – The Diary 

With trembling hands and a fast-beating heart, Harry stared at the black leather-bound book in his hands. Snape kept a diary? He hesitated uncertain whether to open it or not. What if Snape came back? However his natural curiosity overwhelmed him as it lay there innocent and inviting in his hand.. Ideas for blackmail running through his head, he opened the cover. 

It seemed to be a normal work diary at first, more of a planner than a diary, with notes like '_Monday, 2 o'clock, Doctors appointment.' _Or_ 'Friday, 7 o'clock, staff meeting, Hogsmede.' _

But then Harry saw something that made his mouth fall open in shock.

_'Saturday, midnight, Death Eater meeting, The Riddle House.' _

Snape wasn't a Death Eater! He couldn't be! This was a recent entry, only a few days ago, in fact. How? 

Harry flicked frantically through the diary, searching for something that would show that Snape wasn't a Death Eater. He had been once, Harry knew, but surely he wasn't any more? 

Soon, the diary opened, revealing exactly what he had been looking for. 

'Sunday, 10 o'clock, Riddle House, meeting with Voldemort. 11 o'clock, Hogwarts, meeting with Dumbledore to relay information.' 

Snape was a spy! Somehow, he must have got back within the group of Death Eaters, and be spying for Dumbledore! That was the only explanation. 

Feeling slightly calmer now that he wasnt stuck in a house with a Death Eater, Harry flicked back to the more recent events. He wanted to see if there were answers to some more important questions. Like, 'Does Snape have a girlfriend?' 

Reading the most recent entries, Harry found the one for the day Snape had picked him up. 

_'Saturday, 2 o'clock, pick up Potter.'_ In the margin was a comment. _'Note to self: try not to kill Potter over the next two months.' _

Harry stifled a laugh. Knowing Snape hated him was one thing, seeing it written in his diary was another. 

He flipped through the diary, only looking at interesting entries. He laughed that Snape actually knew what a rolling pin was, and stared disbelievingly at the note to 'Buy a new alarm clock.' 

This was new. Harry was astounded that Snape had even heard of a Muggle device such as an alarm clock. He tried to form a mental picture of Snape's and failed. Probably had little cauldrons on it, or the Slytherin crest. He wondered what other Muggle things Snape had. He had probably never heard of something called shampoo though. Thinking of alarm clocks he also realized that he knew nothing of Snape's room, whether he kept a pinup of the Gryffindor lion to throw pins at, or whether he actually wore clothes other than black or green. However Harry wasn't sure he entirely wanted to know though.

Getting bored and slightly disappointed there was nothing entirely incriminating there Harry flipped to the back. here were all blanks since the months had obviously not happened yet. 

Harry turned a page, and something fell out of the diary. It looked like half a photograph, it had landed with the picture face down, so he couldn't be sure. He picked up the photograph and turned it over. 

It was his mother. 

End......... READ/REVIEW!!!!!! PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 


	6. Letters and Mirrors

The disc still applies yadayadayada 

By Silent Shadow and psychicpikachu 

Chapter 6 

Harry stared disbelievingly at the photo. It couldn't be his mum – could it? He took off his glasses and wiped them, but the picture was unmistakable. 

The photo was torn in half and had a crease down the middle, as though it had been folded roughly. His mum was smiling and waving at the camera, moving as in all wizard photographs. Looking closely, Harry could just make out the 'Head Girl' badge pinned onto her robes. This photo must be in her seventh year at Hogwarts – and yes, there was the Whomping Willow in the background. 

But where was the other half of the photo? Harry looked in the diary, but there was nothing there. He turned the photo over and on the back, written in the same writing as the diary, he saw _'Lily' _and there was something else scribbled out. Peering to see, Harry made out the words _'and James' _

There was no doubt about it, it was his mother. 

Harry sat back thoughts spinning through his head. He was struck by a sudden disturbing thought: had Snape known his mother at Hogwarts? He knew they had been in the same year, but to KNOW each other was an entirely different thing. He needed answers. And he knew who to ask. 

Sirius. 

A sudden noise from the floor above brought him back to his senses. He put the photo back into the diary, stuffed the leather-bound book back into the sofa, and ran upstairs to write to his godfather. 

Half an hour and six attempts saw Harry re-reading his letter through for the final time. 

_'Dear Sirius, _

_ How are things? I'm fine here, except for Snape, who is revoltingly sarcastic, as usual. _

_ I know Snape knew you and my dad at Hogwarts, but what about my mum? I know that they were in the same year, but not much else. Did they hate each other? _

_ Did Dumbledore say anything about me moving? Anywhere would be better than here. _

_ Write soon, or I'll go mad without anyone to talk to! _

_ -Harry _

Harry considered putting a note on about his nightmare, but decided against it. He reckoned that Sirius had more important things to do, and besides, he didn't want Sirius to think he had lost his nerve over something as stupid as a nightmare.

Sending Hedwig out of the window, Harry noticed another, smaller owl flying towards him. It landed on his bed, and he saw a letter tied to its leg. 

He read the letter. It was from Hermionie. 

_'Dear Harry, _

_How are you? I'm sorry I haven't written to you yet, the owl I hired to write to Viktor has only just come back. _

_I'm fine, although nothing much is happening here, I'm practicing my wand movements to keep myself in practice and learning some new charms and hexes. _

_ I hope you're not having too bad a time with Snape. I still haven't forgiven him for what he said about my teeth. _

_ Cheer up, I'll owl you loads, and you'll probably end up learning loads for Potions! _

_ Owl me back, _

_-Hermionie _

This was typical Hermione, obsessed about schoolwork as usual.Harry, feeling cheered by her letter, decided to poke around the house some more. After all he reasoned, He would be spending 2 months here so he might as well get to know it better, and find out isf Snape _really_ did have a dungeon 

But before he could do so, he heard footsteps downstairs, too loud for a house elf. Who was it? A vision from his dream passed through his mind, and he remembered Sirius's letter '_These are dark and dangerous times, Harry.'_ Grabbing his wand he crept down the shadowy stairs, his footsteps sounding far too audible. 

He reached the bottom of the stairs, and was at the bottom of the stairs when he saw a dark figure, dressed all in black, it's face anonymous behind a loose hood. The dark figure reached up and pulled off its hood… 

…It was Snape. 

With a stifled sigh of relief, that he would never admit to Harry turned to quickly escape up the stairs. Snape hadn't seen him yet and he would prefer it that way, because a bad tempered Snape was not Harry's ideal situation. He walked as fast as he could, without running, and at the top of the stairs he saw Snape from the corner of his eye glaring at him. Harry hurried into his room and pulled the door shut with a click. 

Harry sighed and sat down on his bed. He heard the sound of Snape's footsteps past his door, and heard a creak as Snape went into his room. He slammed his door shut with a loud bang. 

It was only a few minutes later, as Harry was contemplating whether to finish his History of Magic essay, or begin his Charms homework, when he suddenly heard a huge crash from down the corridor. Harry, in a mixture of curiosity, worry, and plain wanting to stay as far away from Snape as possible, went out of his room. 

The door to Snape's room was ajar. Creeping as quietly as possible, Harry tiptoed up to the door, and peered into the room. 

The room was furnished in black as far as Harry could see, although the crack in the door wasn't very big. Harry couldn't see the alarm clock though, as the bed was not visible. There was broken mirror glass all over the floor, with a large brown book in the middle of it. He book was really big and had apparently been thrown at the mirror. Harry wondered whether Snape knew that breaking a mirror was seven-years bad luck. However he felt Snape deserved it. 

Snape was staring at the broken glass, breathing heavily. Harry could see several pieces of glass in his hair, and his cheek was bleeding. He was just standing there and then he looked up. 

Harry thought he should say something. "Erm…Professor? I heard the crash… and you have glass in your hair…" 

Snape looked up sharply. Instinct got the better of Harry, and as Snape opened his mouth, he bolted for his room 

"POTTER!!!" yelled Snape, but Harry was already safely in his room, sitting on the end of the bed. 

END!!!! PLZ PLZ REVIEW!!!!!!!!


	7. A Timely Rescue

Disclaimer: Still applies from chapter one. Basically, we do not own Harry Potter and all other characters; they are the property of JK Rowling and whoever else owns them. Go sue someone else. 

Authors note: Co written by Silent Shadow and psychicpikachu. Dedicated to Sophie and Lucy, who have suffered through many strange and insane conversations / arguments regarding this fic. We've broken up for the Christmas hols now, and are facing 3 weeks of freedom, so we hope to update more often. 

Read and review! 

Chapter 7 – A nice surprise. 

After Harry completed his History of Magic homework, one of the house elves poked his head through the door. "It's time for dinner, sir!" he squeaked, and ran off hurriedly. 

After the incident with the mirror, Harry understandably wanted to stay out of Snape's way. But, having stayed in his room through lunch, he was starving, and so decided to go and eat. Never mind Snape. 

Dinner was minestrone soup with crusty bread. Harry somehow arrived before Snape. Assuming he was still fuming upstairs, he sat and began eating. Snape might just be ill, or so he hoped. After all it meant less contact with a person who was practically a vampire. 

A few minutes passed, and Harry began to hope that Snape might not be coming down after all. But soon Snape came in, with his usual bat-like glide, and sat at the table not glancing at Harry once. As far as he could tell, Snape was back to normal. Or at least as normal as Snape ever got. 

He ate mechanically, not really tasting his food, as he was preoccupied with his own thoughts. Snape kept silent all meal wearing his customary scowl. Harry wondered if Snape knew any face expressions besides a scowl and a smirk , or looking very angry. 

Harry mentally ran through the facts for about the hundredth time: Snape was in a bad mood. Snape breaks a mirror. Connection? He thought so. 

He supposed Snape was in a bad mood because he'd been at a Death Eater meeting, though he hadn't seen today's entry in the diary so he couldn't be sure. Just the thought of Snape at a Death Eater meeting, whatever his purpose, made Harry shiver. 

Thinking about where Snape had been, he suddenly realized that he must have met Voldemort at the meeting. The shock of this thought made him choke violently on his bread. 

Once his coughing fit had ended, and he could breathe normally again, Harry chanced glancing upwards to see Snape's reaction. He didn't seem to have even noticed. At that very moment, however, Snape looked up as well. Harry looked away quickly, and tried very hard to concentrate on his soup, acutely aware of Snape glaring at the back of his skull. It was very disconcerting,. 

The meal was soon over, and Harry walked towards the door of the kitchen, looking forward to being away from Snape and the hostile air that hung over the room. 

"One moment, Potter." Said Snape, and Harry, with a feeling of déjà vu, turned around. 

"Unfortunately, I have some… business here tomorrow, therefore Professor Dumbledore has arranged for you to spend the day with the Weasleys." 

Harry's heart jumped. A whole day with Ron at the Burrow? He tried not to look to excited. He nodded shortly. 

"The Weasleys," continued Snape, dragging the word 'Weasleys' out like an insult, "are expecting you tomorrow at nine. Make sure you are ready." Harry nodded again and calmly left the room. 

Once he reached his room, he had to stop himself from jumping in joy. A whole day away from Snape! He could hardly wait to see Ron's freckled face when he told him about Snape being a spy. The Weasleys were his favorite family so a whole day with them was absolutely briiliant. 

He sat down on the bed, and suddenly a tiny fluff ball flew past his nose. It was Pig, Ron's owl. He settled on the bedspread, and Harry took the letter off his leg. It was just a short note: 

_Has Snape told you? You're coming to our house tomorrow! Hermione was going to come for the day but her parents couldn't drop her off. Mum's making a big meal, she says she' doubts Snape is capable of feeding himself, let alone a growing boy'. Ginny's been hiding in her room ever since Dumbledore owled us. Or she was a second ago, but Fred and George just let a Dungbomb off in there. I'll see you tomorrow; bring the Firebolt because we can practice Quiddich. _

_-Ron _

Feeling much better, Harry scribbled _'I'll bring the Firebolt, can't wait to see you and tell you everything!'_ on the back, and sent it off with Pig. Tired, and wanting to get an early night, Harry fell onto the bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep. ( For once) 

Harry woke up the next morning at about half past seven, and was in a happier mood than he had been for weeks. He hummed as he got dressed, and went down slightly early for breakfast at about five to eight. He sat at the table and cheerfully ate his toast. The dull rooms of the manor seemed brightened by the prospect of a day with the Weasleys. 

Snape came down about five minutes after Harry, and sat in his usual place at the opposite end of the table. Even the sight of Snape couldn't stop him feeling happy, he felt like even a Dementor could drain his happiness away, and so he smiled warmly and said "Good morning, Professor. Did you sleep well?" 

Snape ignored this comment and continued to spread butter on his toast. 

"It looks like nice weather outside, doesn't it?" Harry continued. "It's been dark over this moor since I came here. Finally, some sunshine!" 

Snape once again paid no attention. 

Harry continued trying to start a conversation for the rest of breakfast, deliberately annoying Snape. He wondered if he'd ever get annoyed. But Snape just kept on eating and ignoring him, and finally breakfast finished.Trying to wind up Snape was like trying to get Ron to switch his allegiance from the Chudley Cannons. As Harry went to put his dish in the sink, Snape glanced at the clock. 

"The Weasleys are expecting you in a few minutes, Potter. I suggest you get ready with any frivolities you wish to take." he said, and went back to his toast. 

"Oh, of course, Professor! I'd almost forgotten!" smiled Harry, and ran upstairs, trying not to laugh at himself. He took his Firebolt out of his trunk and went back downstairs again. 

He met Snape at the door to the living room, the room where he had found the diary. 

"You are to travel by Floo powder." Said Snape, sweeping into the room and taking a black tub off the mantelpiece. The fire was already roaring. "I hope you know how to use Floo powder, Potter?" said Snape sarcastically. 

Harry smiled. "Of course I do, Professor. He said, and after carefully putting his glasses in his pocket, took a pinch of powder out of the pot and threw it into the fire. The flames glowed green, and Harry stepped into them and shouted "The Burrow!" 

Snape Manor disappeared in front of his eyes in the usual whirling.. 

AN: Thank you for reading, please review! We like reviews :) 


	8. At the Weasleys.

Authors Note: This fic is co written by Silent Shadow and psychicpikachu. 

Dedicated to Lucy and Sophie. Much thanks for putting up with us! 

Merry Christmas, everyone! (in case we don't post till after Christmas) 

The disclaimer still applies from previous chapters. Harry potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling and some other people. Go sue someone else. 

Chapter 8 

The atmosphere into which Harry stumbled was nothing like the one he had just left. He was standing in the middle of the Weasleys' kitchen, which was full of more light and noise than he had seen for days. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, as well as Ron, Fred and George, were sitting around the large table eating breakfast. 

"Hey, Harry!" shouted Ron through a mouthful of toast. "Come sit down!" 

He sat down next to Ron, and found Mrs. Weasley trying to fit about twelve pieces of toast and sixteen sausages onto his plate. This was turning into one of the best days hed had in a long time. 

"How are you, Harry dear? she beamed at him. "You look rather pale." " Is Professor Snape feeding you, I'm sure you're thinner that before" " Calm down Molly, Im sure he's fine" interjected Mr. Weasley. 

"It's probably lack of sunlight from living with an overgrown vampire bat." said George, and everyone laughed. 

"You shouldn't say things like that about your teachers George." rebuked Mrs. Weasley. " No really Mrs.Weasley, its really really dark in that place." 

Harry started eating. The atmosphere around the table was happy and friendly, a definite contrast to the tense silent air of his previous few meals. And finally, he was away from Snape. The manor seemed a million miles away, like the remnants of a long forgotten dream… or nightmare. 

Harry spent the morning up in the field, having a rather improvised game of Quidditch with Fred, George and Ron. Harry still had the best broom of all of them, so they took turns riding it. Then they went back to the house for lunch, where Mrs. Weasley tried to make Harry have about fourteen sandwiches, and Fred and George asked Harry endless questions about Snape and his house. Ginny was away at her friends house so Harry didnt see her. Finally, Harry and Ron escaped up to Ron's room. 

The room was as orange as ever, and almost too much for Harry's eyes to take after the dull dreariness of Snape Manor. It was also covered in various wizarding items. 

"Have you heard from Hermione lately?" asked Ron, flipping through an article on the Chudley Cannons. 

"Yeah, she owled me the other day." replied Harry. "Ron, you will never believe…" 

"What did she say? Has she been seeing Krum?" interrupted Ron. 

"She'd just owled him before she sent a letter to me. Ron, will you listen?" 

"What?" asked Ron. 

"Well yesterday, when Snape was out, I went into the living room and I found his diary." 

Harry enjoyed the look of amazement and shock spreading over Ron's face. 

"You found his diary! Did you read it? What did it say?" 

"It was a work diary, and it said…" Harry lowered his voice, not wanting anyone to overhear. "It said that Snape is pretending to be a Death Eater. He's spying from Dumbledore." 

Ron looked shocked. "Snape? A spy? Are you sure?" 

Harry nodded. "Certain." 

"That's really dangerous, though. If You-Know-Who finds out…"

"That means that he is definitely on our side even if he is a complete and utter git. He hasn't tried to disembowel me yet." Harry decided not to tell Ron about the mirror because he didn't want to worry him unnecessarily. The same went for the nightmares. he also didn't mention the way that Snape had not yelled at him because frankly, that was just plain weird. 

An uneasy silence fell over the two boys. Harry felt strangely guilty. How had he forgotten the danger Snape must be in? And also… should he tell Ron about the picture? 

"And… I found something else too." Harry's mouth had gone suddenly dry. He took a deep breath. "I found a picture of my mum in the diary." 

Ron's jaw dropped. "Your mum? In _Snape's diary_? That doesn't mean…?" Ron didn't need to finish the sentence for Harry to understand. He had thought the same thing. 

"I hope it doesn't." 

Another silence would have fallen, were it not for a sudden BANG! From Fred and George's room, making the two boys jump. The bang was followed by a shout of "We've done it!" and someone running down the corridor. Fred burst in. 

"Hey, you two, come and see our latest invention!" he said. 

George poked his head under Fred's arm. "But don't tell mum, she'll kill us." 

Glad for a chance to get out of the room and away from the topic of Snape's diary, Ron and Harry followed the twins into their room. 

The room looked like an explosion had taken place. Which, Harry reminded himself, it had, about a minute ago. The room was unspeakably messy, clothes, books, cups, plates, pieces of parchment, Zonko's merchandise, and millions of unidentifiable pieces of wizarding things were strewn about randomly. The walls were painted in splotches of pink, blue, green, purple, orange, sapphire, saffron, ruby, cerulean, yellow and about every other colour there was. This would have been bad enough, but some of the splotches were flashing different colours madly. This room was much more homelike to Harry's eyes than Snape Manor even though it was messy. 

"Do you like it?" asked Fred. "Sorry it's a bit messy. What do you think of the walls?" 

"They're very…colourful." Harry said. 

"They go the idea off Hermione, when she used it on that banner we made for your first Quidditch game. Mum had a fit." said Ron. 

"Some people just don't appreciate fine art." said Fred. 

"Here it is." beamed George. The newest invention of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." 

It looked like a small round sweet. It was dark purple in colour and had a small dimple in the middle. 

"Let me demonstrate." said George. He swallowed the purple sweet, and instantly his face changed as though he'd pulled on a mask. It looked like the face of a wolf, with blue hair and silver eyes. 

"Perfect!" he exclaimed with a barking noise. "George, you try." 

George ate another of the purple sweets, and his face transformed into a skull. 

"Wow!" said Ron. "You'd sell millions of those things! Just imagine, eating one of those and jumping out at your friends…they'd be terrified! They look so real!" 

George growled, and Harry was almost scared, even though he knew it was George really. 

"How long does it last?" he asked. 

"About half a minute more, I think," said George, "if we've done it right." 

Sure enough, half a minute later they were back to their old selves. 

"It worked brilliantly. That's our eighty-third product!" said George. 

Ron appeared to have lost interest. No doubt the twins would try and scare Giny with it. "Hey, Harry, do you want to see my new dress robes?" 

After seeing Ron's new robes, (which were much better than the old ones) playing more Quidditch, and eating a huge meal, it was time for Harry to go back to Snape Manor. With a hug from Mrs. Weasley, ( which he was quite embarrassed but secretly please about) and Ron shouting, "Remember to owl me!" he threw some Floo powder into the fireplace, and stepped away from his friends family. He wished he could stay, and almost envied Ron his family. But the Burrow was whirled away before his eyes, and he stumbled out of the fireplace at Snape Manor. Mentally he sighed, another night of wishing he was somewhere else. 

Authors note: Thank you all for reading, please review! 


	9. This is a WEIRD Holiday......

OK so the disclaimer still applies and its still dedicated to Sophie and Docile. Silent Shadow and psyhcicpikachu wrote this. So any way..... MOVE!!! READ!!! REVIEW!!!! ENJOY!!!!!! 

Merry Xmas.

**Chapter 9.**

****

As he stumbled out of the fire and brushed off the soot, Harry looked around for Snape. Fortunately he wasn't there. He made his way up the stairs to put away his Firebolt, all the time listening out for footsteps.

Snape Manor seemed extra dark and gloomy compared to The Burrow. There was no laughter or light in these walls. He entered his room and put away his Firebolt. Snape hadn't yet made an appearance so he supposed he was somewhere else in the house and didn't know he had arrived. Or, most likely, he was staying out of Harry's way. Good as that was, it was still he found it oddly depressing that the only other person in the building hated him.

Sitting on the bed he looked at his options of whiling away the time till dinner. It was now 6 pm.

He could do his homework, write a letter to someone and wait for Hedwig, make his way down to the living room to see whether Snape had any books worth reading, or he could sit here and be bored. He chose to go look for a book.

Even if he did run into Snape then he would at least have company, even though Snape would rather he wasn't there. Besides it might annoy the Professor and that would be amusing. In a dangerous sort of way.

Making his way down the huge sweeping staircase he crossed the hall and entered the living room. This time the curtains were open and it was a lot lighter in the room. He didn't look around the room, which was unsurprisingly furnished in black and green Feeling like an intruder or an interloper he moved away and sat on the sofa. It occurred to him that Snape's diary might be interesting to read – maybe he would find some clue as to why Snape had that photo. But when he felt down the back of the sofa the diary was no longer stuffed down there.

To amuse himself he started watching the clouds and seeing what shapes they resembled. He was sure he could see a cloud that looked just like the Golden Snitch.

He lay down on the floor in a warm patch of sunlight to get a better view of the clouds and watched them drift by.

For about half an hour he lay there watching the sky feeling peaceful and happy.

Glancing at the clock he saw that it was about 7 pm. Getting to his feet he went to the kitchen to see if the house-elf was there.

It wasn't. With no one to talk to, about anything at all, he slouched upstairs feeling sorry for himself.

He then proceeded to lie on his bed staring at the canopy above him, bored enough to fall asleep. A noise below, sounding like footsteps, brought him to his senses.

Snape must have returned or come upstairs. Slipping out of his room he saw the Potions Masters back as he entered his room.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror outside his door. A smudge of mud was on one cheek and his hair was sticking up more than usual. Altogether he looked very untidy and unkempt. Having nothing better to do he cleaned his face, brushed his hair (with little effect) and waited till dinnertime.

Soon one of the house elves poked its head around the door and said that dinner was now ready. Harry went down for dinner and took his usual seat at one end of the table. The food today was still good.

Lasagne was one of his favourite dishes normally but he didn't dream of sharing this fact with Snape. Eating with relish, he was finished some time before Snape. He couldn't wait to escape the tense silence, so he took his plate to the sink as soon as he had finished eating.

After being knocked off his broom in a moment of inattention at Ron's he had a deep purple bruise on his arm. As he passed Snape to make his way to the door his sleeve moved and his bruise was exposed.

" How did you get that Potter?" asked Snape out of the blue.

" Huh?" said Harry taken aback. "Oh, my arm" he replied after catching on. " Its just a bruise. It's nothing compared to what happened last time I fell off my broom." The bruise had gone purple now so it looked worse than it was.

Snape merely raised an eyebrow at this statement but continued eating. Harry moved upstairs puzzled by Snape's comment.

------------------------------------- About 11. 45 pm. ------------------------------------

As he stood there he could see the graveyard all around him, dark and full of menacing shadows. He could hear the Death eaters and directly in front of him he saw Voldemort raising his wand, ready to shout a curse…

He saw his parents in the distance, faded and hard to see in the mist. He ran after them, away from Voldemort…

He saw Cedric's body, could hear his ghost asking to be taken back to Hogwarts. This wasn't a nightmare but a jumble of memories, as clear and sharp as photographs, as easily remembered as if they had happened yesterday. He saw Cedric's body and the Triwizard Cup in front of him, he was reaching out to grab them, reaching, as Voldemort behind him raised his wand and yelled…

**"POTTER!" **

Harry felt a jerk at his neck. The Portkey? His eyes flew open, and instead of a mist-filled graveyard he was at the very edge of the window, one foot half over the window frame, and his hand reaching out into nothingness.

**"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"**

The jerk at his neck was Snape, as he had grabbed his pyjama top to stop him falling. Harry was confused. What was going on? How had he gotten here? He half-turned around, and saw Snape behind him, his face white and furious.

"I don't know, I just woke up and I was here…" Harry's explanation trailed off under the terrifying expression on Snape's face.

"Don't lie to me. **What were you doing?"**

Harry felt he ought to try to explain that he didn't know what was going on any more than Snape. "I told you, I don't know. I woke up, and I was at the window." Harry tried to keep his voice calm, but in reality his heart was pounding, with a combination of nerves and adrenalin

Snape did not reply. He let go of Harry's pyjama top, reached up and slammed the window shut, with a bang that made Harry jump. Then he walked out of the room without a backwards glance.

Harry sat down hard on the window seat. What had happened? First the nightmare, then he had woken on the brink of jumping out of the window. Surely Snape didn't think he was trying to kill himself? Puzzled and worried, he sat deep in thought on the window seat for half an hour before giving in and going back to bed, where he fell asleep quickly.

After waking at seven he rolled over and it took him a minute to remember why he was so puzzled and worried.

Then it all came back in flash, the window, Snape.....

He got out of bed dreading breakfast and the inevitable meeting with Snape but h was too ghungy to skip it and better be yelled at now than later.

At eight he slouched down to breakfast and sat down. Snape was already sat there. Making himself as small as possible Harry poured himself cereal and began to eat.

The meal proceeded in a tense silence. Snape took no notice of him for which Harry was extremely grateful. The meal over Harry stood up with his bowl and made as if to go towards the sink.

Snape however spoke then.

"Potter. Sit down." Surprised Harry complied, collapsing back into his seat.

Looking not cold, not angry but very very serious Snape looked at him and then spoke.

" About the fiasco last night. I'm asking you now to tell me the truth. Not your version of the truth but the plain unvarnished kind. "

" Um... Ok."

" Good. What were you doing last night? Were you trying to jump out the window? If so then tell me."

Harry spoke. " Professor I swear to you that i had no idea what was going on last night. i woke up lke that. f you fed me Veritaserum you would receive the same answer."

Haryy held Snapes gaze without looking away. He had nothing to be ashamed f. He had been asked for the truth and he had given it.

Finally it was Snape who looked away first. " Very well Potter. We will say no more about this."

Harry then escaped to his room perplexed by what had just happened and he also wondered why Snape hadnt just let him fall.

This was turning into one weird holiday.

The END.

so REVIEW!!!! WE LOOOOVE REVIEWS!!!!! 


	10. The funniest thing in a long time...

Disclaimer:  Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K.Rowling and Bloomsbury books, among others. No copyright infringement is intended. Go sue someone else. 

            Authors' Note: Sorry this has taken a while! We've had Internet problems and couldn't post. However, we hope to get back on track now school has started. Hope you all had a happy new year! Please r&r!

Chapter 10 

Harry stayed in his room for the rest of the morning, wondering whether he could be bothered doing some homework, or maybe writing a letter. Eventually the decision of what to do was made for him, as at one o'clock a house elf arrived in the usual black pillowcase to announce lunch.

Harry groaned. After the breakfast this morning, the last thing he wanted was to spend another meal with Snape. But there was nothing for it, he either ate with Snape or starved. 

His mind was preoccupied as he walked down the huge staircase. Things like, When would Sirius reply? What would Snape say about last night? Why had he been sleepwalking?

He wasn't really concentrating on where he put his feet. He had only walked down a few stairs when he slipped and went flying head over heels down the long staircase. He thudded and bumped on the stair edges, and about halfway down he heard rather than felt a sickening crack in his arm.

He landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, his arm now filled with pain. He heard footsteps, in a moment Snape was standing over him. 

"Potter, I believe stairs are for walking on, not falling down. Of course, that's only my opinion." said Snape sarcastically.

Harry was determined not to show pain in front of Snape, so he gritted his teeth and said, "I think my arm's broken."

Snape took his wand out and pointed it at Harry, and for one wild moment he thought Snape was about to curse him, but he merely muttered something under his breath and Harry felt the pain leave his arm.

"Follow me, Potter." spat Snape, and Harry stood and followed him into the kitchen. He realized his arm was still broken, but it was completely numb.

"Sit there. I shall have to mix a potion to mend the bone." Snape said coldly. Harry sat in at the table. It had been stupid of him, to slip on the stairs, but surely Snape was over reacting? After all, anyone could have an accident.

He looked at Snape, and distinctly heard him mutter as he threw some sliced daisy roots into a small cauldron "Thank god I never had children." Harry privately agreed. Any child of Snape's would probably be worse than Malfoy. And have serious issues.

"Here." said Snape about ten minutes later, startling Harry out of his imagination. "Drink this." He banged a large goblet on the table, making the foul-smelling black sludge inside spatter up the sides of the glass. Harry drank it, and it tasted like cold soggy spinach. He was sure Snape had made it as nasty as possible.

"What happened?" asked Snape when Harry had swallowed the whole glass.

"I told you, I fell down the stairs." Said Harry, moving his arm to test it (it was indeed mended, but ached dully)

"Tell the truth, Potter." said Snape in a voice like ice.

"I did tell the truth." said Harry annoyed. "I wasn't paying attention, I slipped and fell. That's what happened."

"Something suspicious is going on. First, I find you about to jump out of your window in the middle of the night; next I find you have broken your arm in another supposed accident. I will not let this happen a third time! Come."  Snape walked out of the room, and Harry followed, confused. Snape must be off his nut. Did he think he had fallen down the stairs on purpose? Surely there were better ways to kill himself?

Snape led him to his room, and locked the door behind Harry. "Please have the courtesy to refrain from trying to kill yourself in my house." He said as he turned the key in the lock, and walked away, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "I'm not fit to cope with suicidal teenagers." Harry was sure he wasn't.

Harry sat on the bed, feeling rather confused. Why did Snape think he had a death wish? What could he do to get out?

As he thought, he saw two owls fly towards the open window. One owl he recognized as his own Hedwig, but the other was unfamiliar.

The two owls landed on his bed, and Harry reached over and took the letters off. The one Hedwig was carrying looked like it was from Sirius.

_Dear Harry,_

_            Is that slimeball Severus treating you alright? I don't give a rat's arse about that greasy git, but if he does one thing to hurt you he will find himself dead before you can say Potions._

_Why do you ask about Snape and Lily? She was nicer to him than any of us were, they did seem to be quite good friends for a while._

_I have written to Dumbledore, but he won't let you move. He says it's safer with Snape. About as safe as living with a half-starved lion, in my opinion.  Write back soon, if he does anything to you I want to hear about it._

_-Sirius._

The other owl was large and tawny, and the letter it carried was from Hermionie.

_Hi Harry,_

_                Ron told me about the diary, have you found out anything else? I wish I knew why Snape had that photo, and I can't believe he's a spy! He's in so much danger, if he gets caught! How is he treating you?           _

_ I'm in Bulgaria visiting Viktor; we're having a great time! He's been teaching me to play Quidditch, which is fun but I've fallen off about twenty times now. He gave me this owl, it's called Chandra._

_So how was your day at the Burrow? How's Ron? He told me he has new dress robes, what do you think of them? I hope they're better than those old ones, they were hideous. Was he talking about me? What did you do? I'll have to finish this letter now, Krum wants to play Quidditch. Again! _

_-Hermionie._

Harry thought it a bit peculiar that Hermionie was suddenly so interested in Ron's dress robes. Taking up a piece of parchment, he wrote:

_Hermionie,_

_            Snape has locked me in my room. He thinks I'm suicidal because I fell down the stairs! He's nuts. I'll be OK; I'm writing to Sirius in a minute, he'll sort out Snape._

_I had fun at Ron's house; we played Quidditch a lot (glad to hear you're playing it too!). Ron's dress robes are okay. He did talk about you quite a bit, mainly he was asking whether you had seen Krum. Why do you ask?_

_Write to me soon, I can't stand living here with no human contact. The only person I see is Snape, and he doesn't exactly qualify as human. _

_-Harry._

He attached the letter to the owl's leg, and sent it off, wondering what Hermionie would say. It would be a bit shocking, finding out that your friend, who was living with the meanest teacher in school, had been locked in his room because he was thought to be suicidal, and had found a picture of his dead mum in the teacher's diary. It was probably a good thing he hadn't mentioned the nightmares or the sleepwalking; if he had she would probably have had a heart attack. Next he wrote a carefully worded letter to Sirius.

_Dear Sirius,_

_            Snape has locked my in my room! He thinks I'm suicidal because I was sleepwalking last night and I nearly walked out of my window. I tried explaining to him that I was sleepwalking but he wouldn't believe me. And then I slipped on the stairs and broke my arm, and he thought I'd done it on purpose! He gave me this horrible potion to fix it. Are you sure you can't persuade Dumbledore to get me out of here?_

_-Harry._

He read the letter through to make sure it was okay. He didn't want Sirius to worry about him, just to get really mad at Snape and do something to get him out of his room. Harry attached the letter to Hedwig's leg and sent her out. 

It was about ten that night, and Harry was fast asleep. But not for long – 

"HOW DARE YOU LOCK MY GODSON UP, IF YOU THINK HE'S SUICIDAL YOU MUST BE MAD, HARRY WOULD NEVER TRY TO KILL HIMSELF…"

Sirius appeared to have sent Snape a Howler. Harry burst into laughter, which thankfully couldn't be heard over the shouts.

"…IF YOU DON'T LET HARRY OUT IMMEDIATELY I WILL PERSONALLY STRANGLE YOU, YOU FOUL RAT FACED GIT! IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS TO ANYONE WITH A SINGLE BRAIN CELL THAT HARRY'S NOT SUICIDAL, EVEN A FLOBBERWORM COULD FIGURE IT OUT, YOU HALF BRAINDEAD GREASY HAIRED…"

Harry was almost crying with mirth as the screams went on. They lasted for a good five minutes, and Sirius was insulting and threatening Snape with amazing inventiveness and some rather colourful language.

"LET HARRY OUT NOW OR I WILL DISEMBOWEL YOU WITH A SHARPENED STICK AND HANG YOUR DEAD BODY IN THE OWLERY AT HOGWARTS FOR THE BIRDS TO EAT!!!"

And with that last ringing threat, the house fell silent. 

Harry's laughter now seemed almost to echo around the room. He tried his hardest to smother his laughs, and he heard footsteps on the stairs. A key was turned in the lock, and a low voice muttered, "On Sirius' head be the consequences." And the footsteps faded away.

After finally managing to swallow his laughter, Harry went back to sleep. Without doubt that had to be the funniest thing to happen to him in a long time.


	11. SomeOne Else's Memories

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Snape and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury books, and some other people. Not us. Go sue someone else. The plot and stuff are ours, however. 

Authors' note: Yes, it has been a long time since we last updated. We've had homework and viruses to contend with (that's illness, not computer problems) so sorry! 

As a lot of people have been saying that they check every day, and some have asked us to email them when we update, we have decided that we will start an updates list. If you want us to e-mail you when SnapeSummer is updated, leave your e-mail address in your review and psychicpikachu will e-mail you when we update. 

Thank you, as always, for reading! Please review! 

Chapter 11 – Someone else's memories. 

Harry woke the next day to a shaft of sunlight, cautiously streaming in over his floor. He felt in a rather good mood this morning, considering he was living with the most horrible teacher ever to draw breath. Phrases from the howler kept flitting through his mind, making him smile and laugh, and it was hard to feel miserable. 

Looking through his trunk, he found that the only clean clothes he had were some of Dudley's more recent cast-offs, that had been passed down to Harry as he lost weigh on the diet. Consequently, they were about ten sizes too big, and had to be rolled back at least four times in the sleeve and the leg. He would have made do with something he'd worn once, but was slightly smaller, but the house-elf had taken all his laundry away yesterday morning. It was nearly nine o'clock, and sure enough, just as he had finished dressing, a house-elf tiptoed round the door and said it was time for breakfast. 

Walking into the breakfast room, Harry saw Snape was already sitting there, eating fried eggs and toast. If possible, he looked even surlier than usual. Harry felt his happy mood disintegrate under the ill-natured gaze of the Potions teacher. 

"Is it some sort of Muggle fashion to wear clothes ten sizes too big for you, Potter?" asked Snape, in a sarcastic tone of voice. 

Harry was already pretty irate with Snape. After all, he had locked Harry in his room with no good reason, on top of being a venomous irritant that Harry was unfortunately forced to live with. 

"It's not my fault they're so big," he said walking to the table and sitting down. 

"Don't your Muggle relatives even see that you're decently dressed?" 

"No." said Harry shortly, picking up some toast. 

Snape merely raised an eyebrow at this comment, and went back to eating. The meal continued in a charged silence, Snape's irritated anger could almost be felt in the air. 

It was not till the end of breakfast that he spoke again. Looking at Harry's messy hair, which was falling about all over the place, Snape said "Do you actually know how to use a comb, Potter?" 

Harry ignored this question, although inside he felt a surge of anger. He didn't see how Snape could criticize his hair, when Snape's hair had more grease in it than a well-used saucepan. Resisting the urge to snap something along the lines of 'Do you actually know that you're meant to wash your hair with shampoo, not grease?' he left the room, glad to be free of the tense atmosphere, and ran upstairs. 

Entering his room, he was greeted by a welcome sight; Ron's owl, Pig, was fluttering near the ceiling. Hedwig, who was sitting in her cage, watched him irately. A letter lay on the bed. Harry picked it up and read, 

_Dear Harry, _

_I can't believe that Hermione's gone to stay with that Krum. What does she see in him? Bet she only likes him because he's famous. And he gave her that owl! Also, they're playing Quidditch. Famous Viktor Krum teaching her to play Quidditch. Hope they have a really horrible time. _

_She told me that Snape locked you in. Does he really think you're suicidal? He must be off his nut. Has he let you out yet? _

_Write back soon, _

_ -Ron. _

Harry read the part about Snape being off his nut with a smile, personally, he agreed. He also wondered what Ron had against Hermione staying with Krum – now the Triwizard Tournament was over, and he wasn't competing against Krum, why was Ron still acting so weird about him? It didn't make sense. 

He took two pieces of parchment from the desk. First, he had to write a thank-you letter to Sirius. 

_Dear Sirius, _

_ Thank you for sending that Howler! It did the trick; he let me out, although now he's in a foul mood. It was hilarious to listen to it, and where did you get all those threats? I wish I'd seen his face when he opened it, but I was upstairs. I think he's pretty angry with you. But then he never liked either of us anyway. _

_Write soon, _

_ -Harry _

He attached the letter to Hedwig's leg, and sent her off out the window. Pig hooted enquiringly, turning his head on one side and giving Harry a sad, questioning look, as if to say, 'Don't I get a letter too?' 

Harry took the second piece of parchment and wrote; 

_Dear Ron, _

_ Sirius sent Snape a Howler! It was really funny; I almost split my sides laughing. Among other things, he threatened 'LET HARRY OUT NOW OR I WILL DISEMBOWEL YOU WITH A SHARPENED STICK AND HANG YOUR DEAD BODY IN THE OWLERY AT HOGWARTS FOR THE BIRDS TO EAT!!!' So Snape let me out. I don't think he likes the idea of being bird food. _

_What's so wrong with Hermione going to visit Krum? I seem to remember you asking him for his autograph at the end of last term. _

_Write back soon, _

_ -Harry. _

He attached the letter to an overexcited Pig's leg, and watched the owl fly out of the window. 

Feeling slightly bored, and not really having anything to do in his room, Harry was struck with a sudden idea. Why not go downstairs and see if Snape's diary was still there? True, it was a lot more dangerous with Snape in the house, but the temptation was pretty great, and he soon found himself tiptoeing down the stairs. 

He reached the room without encountering Snape, although he had heard his footsteps from nearby the kitchen, so he had to be quiet or he would hear. He cautiously walked over to the sofa, afraid that Snape would suddenly burst round the door, and quickly felt down the back of the seat. 

There was nothing there. 

Harry felt a mixture of annoyance and relief. Slowly and carefully, he tiptoed out of the room, and made his way quietly up the stairs, when suddenly… 

"SHIT!" 

Harry started, and then suddenly broke into laughter, which he hastily muffled by clapping his hands over his mouth. His curiosity aroused, he quickly but silently hurried to where he had heard the shout. 

Looking around the kitchen, he noticed a door he hadn't seen before. It stood at the far end of the kitchen, and was made of a darkish wood. It was also slightly ajar. Harry crept up to it and peered through the crack. 

Inside was what was obviously a sophisticated Potions workshop, looking like something straight out of a Muggle horror movie. Glass tubes contained mysterious coloured substances, and bubbling potions sat in cauldrons with bright flickering fires under them. Snape was rummaging in a cupboard at one side of the room, muttering under his breath. By one side were some half chopped ingredients and a rather sharp knife. It looked like Snape had cut himself. 

Harry crept back upstairs, afraid Snape would notice him. Cautiously he tiptoed back into his room, inwardly laughing about Snape's use of language. 

Lunchtime came soon, and with it, another length of time shut in a room that he really would rather not be in. Not that he wanted to be at Snape Manor at all, but it was preferable to be away from Snape rather than sitting in a tension filled room. 

Lunch that day was creamy tomato soup. Harry bolted down his food quickly, trying to finish fast so he could get out of the room. He was consciously aware of Snape's piercing glare on the top of his head whenever he looked down. Snape's finger had indeed been cut, and Harry thought he must be the only person in the world who had managed to find black plasters. How morbid could Snape get? 

Eating his soup as fast as possible was bound to have some messy side effects, and sure enough, soon there was soup spilled on the table. Snape looked at him irately. 

"Don't you even know how to use a spoon now, Potter? Are you totally stupid or just pretending?" 

Harry refused to show that he was annoyed. "I'm not stupid." he said, and continued eating, ignoring Snape. 

But it seemed that the Howler from Sirius had angered Snape beyond his usual meanness. "Potter," he said, "you have three brain cells. One to eat. One to be bigheaded. And one to remember which does which." 

Harry was rendered speechless with anger, and before he could think of a reply, Snape had left the room. 

Harry left the dining room, and fairly stormed up the stairs, inwardly fuming. Why was he stuck here with Snape? It wasn't fair. For the first time in his life, Harry found himself longing for the Dursleys. At least they wouldn't be so bad. Snape was probably the worst person he could spend summer with, they hated each other. What had Dumbledore been _thinking_? He angrily threw himself down on the bed. 

The rest of the afternoon dragged past, every hour seeming to last an eternity. Harry couldn't be bothered to do his homework, so he lay, bored out of his wits, on the bed. He didn't go down for dinner, thinking to himself, '_I am not going down there to be insulted by Snape again_.' The time continued to crawl by until finally, it was night, and Harry decided to sleep. 

_ He was standing in the graveyard, and Voldemort was around somewhere, he knew it. It was dark, and Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched. He tensed, and walked quietly, keeping an ear out for any noises. _

_ The mist up ahead seemed to be thickening. But as Harry got closer, he saw that it was two foggy shapes, two human-like shapes. And surely they were familiar, he recognized them… _

_ "Mum?" he said. "Dad?" _

_ "Harry." smiled Lily. These were the echoes of his parents that had come from Voldemort's wand. He tried to move towards them, but found he couldn't, as though his feet were stuck in cement. _

_ "Harry, we can't stay." said the ghost of James. "We have to go." _

_ "No! Please, stay…" Harry was frightened. He didn't want to be alone in a graveyard where Voldemort could appear at anytime… he wanted to stay with his parents… _

_ "No, Harry, we have to go." said Lily, and her words sounded as though they were coming from a long way away. "Goodbye Harry…" _

_ The two misty shapes smiled sadly, and faded away. _

_ And then the graveyard was slowly disappearing, but he was still afraid, and he shouted, "No, wait! Come back! Please, come back!" but then he was fading too, and there was nothing but blackness… _

Harry awoke with a start. The room was pitch black. "Lumos." he whispered to his wand, and a pale light was cast over the room. Flopping onto the cushions, he suddenly felt very lonely. The only person in the house was Snape, who hated him. All his friends were miles away, reachable only by owl. His godfather was on the run, and he probably wouldn't see him for months. And his parents… were dead. 

Why did they have to be dead? Why his parents who were killed? Why did he have to be the one who stopped Voldemort? Why couldn't it have been someone else? Most of the wizarding world wanted his fame, his scar, his past – Ron for instance. But all Harry wanted was his parents. 

He couldn't even remember them. All he had were their voices, remembered and relived every time a Dementor approached. He had a memory of what their echoes had said to him, as he fought Voldemort. And he had a book full of photos. However much he tried to remember, tried to imagine a red-haired woman smiling at him, or a dark-haired man laughing kindly, he could never remember what it had been like. Of course he wouldn't. He'd only been one, a baby, too young to remember anything. 

He pulled out the book of wizarding photos. Every picture waved at him, smiling, but somehow these didn't make him feel any better. These pictures were taken before he was born, and none of these things were what he remembered. All he had were his parents voices, a few seconds of terrifying memory, all he had left. 

A few hours later, the winter moon rose, and its light tentatively slid through the window. It lit upon the figure of a young boy, sleeping, and by his side was a book full of someone else's memories. 

Authors' Note: Thank you for reading! Please review 


	12. Thoughts

Authors note: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K.Rowling and not to me. I and psychicpikachu own only the plot and events. PLEASE PLEASE review as we LOOOVE reviews and this is the only way we know our work is being read. Sophie and Lucy this is still dedicated to you and now on with the story!!

Chapter 12

Dementors were coming… He had to warn Sirius……… Voldemort was there … he was running… running and all was lost as he watched Sirius tortured by the Dark Lord… Over and over as the Dark Lord found him and he uttered the words …a jet of green light and he howled in anguish as his godfather died and then Voldemort was turning to his parents and he stood there paralysed and he yelled as there was nothing he could do and he would be alone forever and helpless. And then Voldemort turned to him and he could feel the pain, the white-hot knives of Crucio and he was screaming and no-one could hear him…

Gasping and shaking Harry awoke. Groaning, he clutched his head wishing that the nightmares would abate and let him sleep once in a while. One per night was enough for him, but two was simply exhausting. Wearily he got up and made as if to move to the window seat.

He halted suddenly, as he heard heavy footsteps approaching his door. Hurriedly he jumped in bed and put a pillow over his head pretending to be asleep, because the last thing he wanted was to deal with an irate Snape directly after a nightmare. Then again, Snape _was_ a nightmare.

He heard the steps pause and a knock at his door. " Potter?" Snape called, miraculously not sounding angry.

" Potter, I know you're awake." Receiving no reply from Harry, whose pretence of sleep was apparently not suceeding, Snape opened the door and stepped in.

Just at that moment Harry sneezed. " Potter, stop playing games like a six year old and get up now," said Snape in a world-weary tone."

Kicking himself mentally, Harry sat up and took the pillow off his head. Not sure what to say he said " um… er… Well… Professor… er..."

Snape cut in impatiently.

"What is the mater now Potter? Is it an attack of the famous Nothing? "

Again Harry was amazed he didn't look angry. After his behaviour at lunch he would have expected him to berate him on loss of sleep, childish behaviour etc.

In fact Harry was half- sure he had caught a flicker of worry as he entered, to be replaced by the cold expression.

Harry bit his lip. Deciding to go for lying he smiled and said, " I'm fine Professor, never been better." Try as he might he failed to remove the bitterness from his tone.

" If you're fine Potter than I suggest you stop screaming at night, and sounding like you've been hit by Crucio. Nothing must be quite awful, in my opinion."

Harry didn't say anything but continued to regard Snape with a sort of vaguely panicky look that he couldn't quite hide. Snape sighed and walked out, shutting the door behind him. Harry heard him mutter as he went down the hall, " Honestly. Nothing my foot."

With a sigh of relief Harry hear him go. With the beginnings of shame he realized he wanted someone at least to care he was having nightmares but no-one was there.

He whiled the night away, knowing he wouldn't sleep again, looking at photos of his parents and staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. When seven am came he got dressed and waited for breakfast.

Again he was so tired with minimal sleep from the night before that he could hardly summon the enthusiasm to eat his toast. Snape regarded him like a big overgrown bird of prey throughout but didn't say anything.

It was an effort to keep his eyes open and he would gladly have gone to sleep on the breakfast table. However he forced himself to keep awake, as he was sure Snape would just make another cutting remark, and he really did not feel up to coping with them.

He slowly made his way up stairs. He realised that he hadn't been outside in ages – since Snape picked him up, in fact. The house was far too dull and depressing, seeming to close in on him. He wanted to go outside, to feel the sunshine on the back of his neck and just relax for the first time in ages.

He suddenly felt a streak of rebelliousness. Damn Snape. He wasn't a prisoner here. Grabbing his Firebolt he opened his window and flew out. The cool, pleasant breeze Helped wake him up, and he revelled in the familiar sensation of flight.

Dropping low, he landed and set out. The moor was green and pleasant and relaxed him, now that he wasn't tense from the constant presence of Snape. He wandered around drinking in the pleasant scenery. Today was bright and cheerful unlike the previous few days. He was finally out of the house, finally in the fresh air again. Finally free from the constant memories that seemed to crowd upon him in the manor, filling his dreams. In the dull house there had been nothing cheerful to distract him from the memories and dreams, but now he felt wide awake and almost happy.

Then the first drops of rain alerted him, to the time and the weather, and he started to head back. Storms were common in July. He remembered one time when he had been quite young how a sudden summer storm had felled a tree, a tall pine in a back yard not far from the Dursley's. It had crashed down at about half nine at night and woken him and Dudley up. Of course Dudley, being about four at the time, had started screaming for his mum, so loudly Harry could hear it in the downstairs closet.

He headed back and flew up to his room. Snape presumably didn't know that he had been out, and Harry intended to keep it that way. If he told Snape he had been out he would probably keep him in out of sheer vindictiveness.

Somehow, he was even more tired after the walk than he had been before, although when he had been outside he had felt wide awake. He supposed that it was the after-effects of the exercise. Yawning, he walked to the sitting room. Snape was in the kitchen, but another sudden surge of rebelliousness swept through him. He was going to sit there and no one was going to stop him. He had a perfect right to sit there.

Emboldened he sat on the sofa and looked out the window at the countryside. Before long his eyes drooped and he fell asleep.

Unknown to him, Snape entered the room and was confronted with the sight of Harry asleep on the sofa. Steadfastly ignoring him he went about his business.

When the house- elf appeared and squeaked that lunch was ready, Snape snorted in impatience.

"Potter!" the word with a crack of irritation woke Harry from his sleep and he clambered off the sofa with a mumbled apology, sleepy and still tired.

Lunch was some meat with vegetables; he was too tired to taste it. The desire for sleep overcame him and he slid into a doze.

"Potter! Do you make a regular habit of falling asleep everywhere at your relatives house?" inquired Snape, which woke him up.

"No." he mumbled, still dozy. "I hate them too much to do that."

At this Snape raised his eyebrows. "They _are_ your relatives Potter."

" So? They **_hate_** me and only have me on sufferance. You saw Aunt Petunia at their house, screaming. They hate **_anything_** to do with magic. "

" I spent 10 years with them and _hated every second_." Harry was still half asleep and didn't really know what he was saying. His face was pale from lack of sleep, but his drowsy eyes had a hint of fiery green anger in them.

Snape looked slightly amused. Harry looked at him trying to discern what was behind the naturally (to him anyway) cold expression.

Let him laugh. He doesn't believe me, thought Harry. With that he fell asleep again.

When he woke again, refreshed and revived, he stretched and looked at the clock in the kitchen. The time was 3 pm. Obviously Snape hadn't bothered to wake him up this time.

Making his way up the stairs there seemed to have been something funny about Snape, he paused for a minute thinking hard. Snape had seemed too calm last night. This was NOT the Snape that Harry knew. He'd expect him to come storming in and take 1000 points off Gryffindor for disturbing his sleep at night. Well that may be as may be but there was no way he'd EVER tell Snape he was having nightmares.

What Harry really wanted was some Sleeping potion so that he would have one night of untroubled sleep. He was living with a Potions Master, but he stood as much chance of getting one as he did of being invited to Voldemort's wedding.

He'd also have to be on the lookout for Snape tampering with his food. He was secretly worried that he might make his threat good about the Veritaserum. Or possibly put something worse in his food. There would be no limit to the vindictiveness of his mind.

This was one of the most stressful holidays ever. He'd probably be grey- haired by the end.

Reaching his room he decided to stay out of Snape's way for a while as he was afraid that overlargeness of the nose could be catching, and he didn't particularly relish the feeling of being a piece of live prey for a large black hunter bird.

He sat upstairs and wondered what to do. In the end he tidied his possessions and checked what clothes the house –elf had brought back to him. One particularly disgusting t-shirt of Dudley's he put on one side, he was determined never to wear it. It was vomit-green with a picture of a rabbit on. Privately resolving to burn it as soon as he had the chance, he put it away.

Sorting his clothes and generally tidying his room up a bit took him till about 6, as he kept on checking the skies for Hedwig or any other owls. It struck him as he crossed off days on his chart that this was the 7th day he had spent at Snape's and he'd already been locked in his room, almost fallen out of a window, made the traumatizing discovery of the photo, found and read Snape's work diary, and broken his arm.

If this was what a normal week here would be he would be in St. Mungo's by August, either being treated for horrific injuries or stark raving mad. Or quite possibly both.

There was nothing for it but to go down to dinner, as he was quite hungry.

Snape spoke as he sat down. " So I see you've finally woken up Potter."

Harry ignored him. He concentrated on the fact that dinner would be over soon and he didn't have to see Snape again till breakfast.

"What was the noise about last night?" Snape asked, in a manner that reminded Harry of the phrase 'flogging a dead horse'

Harry kept his mouth shut and ignored Snape. Mentally he rolled his eyes. If Snape thought that he would get anything out of Harry he had another thing coming.

"Very well. I have a… guest arriving here tomorrow at 3 o' clock. You will kindly keep out of our way, and please refrain from any disturbances."

This suited Harry fine so he nodded and finished his meal. He didn't want to disturb them anyway. If he did then Snape would probably use a really nasty hex on him.

The end of the chapter, MORE TO COME.

So PLEASE PLEASE review we love to hear what u think of it.!! 


	13. ' Sneezes and Storms'

Disclaimer: well this is based on situations and characters from the Harry Potter books owned by J.K Rowling and whoever, not by us we are not claiming it and wen are definitely not making any money from this. Go sue sum1 else , we are too busy writing !!!

This is written by Silentshadow and Psychicpikachu. 

Chapter 13

After dinner, Harry ran up to his room to get away from Snape, and fell backwards onto his bed.

This holiday was extremely confusing. He was living with the nastiest teacher in school, who had never missed an opportunity to try and get him in trouble, but that teacher was actually acting slightly… concerned. He had seemed worried enough to get out of bed at least, and to keep asking him what was wrong…Snape hated him, so why wasn't he taking the opportunity to make Harry as miserable as possible?

Harry sat up, a thoughtful expression on his face. He _could_ enjoy this holiday away from the Dursleys, as long as he kept out of Snape's way. He would just have to watch his step slightly, that was all. After all, Dumbledore would not be best pleased if Harry was dead or horribly injured by September, would he? Snape wouldn't do anything _too_ awful to him, and if he did, Harry could owl Sirius. This could be quite a good summer yet…

Emboldened by these thoughts, and resolving to try to enjoy the holiday, Harry turned out the light and fell asleep

The next morning Harry awoke after a peaceful night's sleep, which was definitely an improvement. He dimly remembered a weird dream he'd been having. It was hard to recollect the details, but it had been something about Snape shopping for alarm clocks. In the end, he had chosen a combination fish tank-alarm clock, with tiny golden fish swimming in the alarm clock that made a tinny bubbling noise when the alarm went off. For some strange reason Harry dimly recollected that it had had a rolling pin attached. 

He shook himself, wondering where that had come from. Rolling pins and Snape just did not go together. It was a combination like Crabbe and fluffy pink bunnies. He tried to imagine Snape holding a rolling pin. He did not look at all natural. Then, from nowhere, his subconscious added a faded pink apron to the image, and Harry laughed out loud. 

He trudged down to breakfast in a good mood. It was a silent affair, as usual, both sides ignoring the other. This was fine as far as Harry was concerned, as long as Snape didn't talk to him, he could keep trying to enjoy himself. As long as Snape didn't insult him too much, he was fine. 

Snape was exceedingly good at making cutting remarks, Harry mused as he chewed his pancakes. If there was an exam in cutting remarks, Snape would pass with 200%. Harry's thoughts flicked back to a time in third year… 

_They were in Potions, silently working as Snape prowled the classroom. Hermione had obviously been crying earlier, but had refused to tell them why_. (He realized with a flicker of surprise that he still didn't know what she had been crying about)_ She had pulled a small blue mirror from her pocket, and held it up, trying to see her blotchy face in the dim light of the dungeon. _

_"Miss Granger." It was Snape; he had approached silently behind her. "As much as you need a beauty regime, would you please refrain from it in my lesson? Detention, see me after class." _

_With that he had swept off to bully Neville. Only Harry saw a single tear roll down her cheek before she dashed it away and turned back to her ingredients with a determined air. _

He finished his breakfast and walked up the stairs, still lost in thought. What could he do today? There was: a) homework, b) looking for the diary, or c) trying to provoke Snape. Harry felt for some reason like he was taking a multiple-choice quiz. He decided to go for option a), as options b) and c) were about as safe as lighting a large firework and giving it an extra special, extra long hug. 

For the next two hours he concentrated hard on finishing the lot. This was the first time ever that it was possible that he had finished his homework before Hermione. He didn't intend to tell Snape he had finished the Potions assignment: Snape would probably give him an even harder piece of work out of sheer meanness. 

The clock in his room said 11am. Having nothing else to do, he decided to take a risk, and go and look for Snape's diary. He had read all the books he had twice, and there was something rather intriguing about the diary of his most hated teacher… 

Slowly he crept down the stairs, feeling like an intruder. Passing the kitchen door, he caught Snape levitating a large cardboard box into his workroom. Harry quickly ran past the door, his heart pumping fast. 

He slipped into the living room, trying not to let the door creak as he opened it a fraction, just wide enough for him to slip through. He quickly felt down the back of the sofa for the book, feeling more and more like a burglar, and maybe he shouldn't be doing this? But then his fingers closed over something hard. He had the diary. 

Casting a brief furtive glance around the room for Snape, he carefully pulled the book out of its hiding place, when he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Jamming the book back down into the seat, he threw himself on the floor, acting on instinct and adrenalin, and stared at the ceiling. 

Snape walked in the door, and stopped abruptly. Harry tried not to think about how weird he must look, and desperately fumbled for some plausible reason as to why he was lying on the floor in the middle of the living room. He gazed defiantly at the ceiling as though trying to will it upwards. 

Snape walked calmly to the bookcase, looking as though there was not, and never would be, a teenage boy lying on his carpet, and pulled one of the thick volumes off the shelf. He turned, and Harry saw in his peripheral vision that the Professor's mouth was tighter than normal. He swept out of the room without a word. 

Getting to his feet and dusting his clothes off, Harry cautiously went to the sofa again. But then the footsteps returned, he swore mentally, and fell back onto the floor. The absurdity of it made him suddenly want to laugh. He spluttered slightly before controlling his laughter. Here he was, jumping on and off the sofa like a demented kangaroo… 

Snape walked in, and took another book off the shelf that looked exactly the same as the first one. He walked out without even glancing at Harry, who breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the door was shut. It was far too dangerous now to try to get the diary – Snape could come back at any minute. Maybe some other time? He walked back upstairs, with a feeling that the day was going far too slowly. 

Back in his room he had nothing to do. Reading? But he had read all his books a thousand times. He had finished all his homework. Maybe he could write a letter? But he didn't have anything to say in a letter. Disconsolate, he lay on his bed, trying to think of something to do. He could explore, but with Snape there, it was out of the question. The house elf came eventually, and Harry resolved that after lunch, he would go outside again. 

The meal passed almost without incident. They had been eating fish, and Harry, struck by memories of his dream, burst out laughing. Snape looked at him with what could only be described as sarcastic disbelief on his face, which only caused Harry to laugh more. Eventually, he regained his control, and the meal continued in the tense silence that had become almost routine. 

So now, he was up in his room and taking his Firebolt out of his trunk. It was extremely well cared for – Harry had polished it so much in his boredom he could see his face in it – and flew out of the window, reveling in the feeling of flight that was like no other feeling he knew. Out on the moor there was no danger of being seen by Muggles, so he could fly to his hearts content. He flew through the air, doing swoops and death-defying dives, rolls and loop-the loops, enjoying the feeling of freedom and the rush of flight, the wind blowing his hair back against his head and making him feel alive and wide-awake. 

Eventually, he dropped to the ground, dismounted, and took a walk. The moor was bare, only dry gorse and rough heather growing there. His thoughts returned to Snape. He ought not to antagonize him, but how could he help it when the mere sight of him set Snape fuming? 

He walked for about an hour, until he was so far away from the house that it could not be seen. He wished he had a watch, because he didn't have a clue what the time was. He still hadn't gotten a new one after his had stopped in the lake. Looking at the sun, he judged it was about 3 o'clock. Snape's mysterious visitor would have arrived by now, so it was probably not safe to return – he might disturb them. Feeling tired from all the walking, he stretched out on a convenient flat rock. The air was warm and humid, and the wind rustled through the coarse grasses on the moorland. Lying there, he felt more happy and peaceful than he had for a long time. 

He had fallen into a light doze, when he was awoken by a drop of rain. Then another. A distant rumbling and grey clouds overhead heralded a sudden summer storm. Inwardly cursing, Harry grabbed his broomstick and flew off in the direction of the manor. 

Within two minutes, the rain was falling thick and fast. Harry was soaked to the skin, and wishing he was allowed to use magic outside school – his glasses were so covered with water he could see better with them off. He flew faster through the blinding rain. But without his glasses, and in the terrible storm, he could no longer be sure of where he was going. Was he going the right way? He was frozen to the skin, and every raindrop felt like an icy needle on his skin. Surely he should be there by now? He hadn't gone that far from the house – or had he? A knot of feat clenched in his stomach. What if he never got back? What if he got completely lost and no one could find him? What if he flew until night fell, and he was all alone, in the inky blackness? 

And then up ahead, a looming black shape appeared on the horizon, which slowly reformed itself into a house, a house that he never thought he would be glad to see… Snape Manor. Harry flew in his window, soaking wet and shivering from cold, but safe. He changed out of his dripping clothes, trying his best to dry his face and hair, and sneezed violently. He pulled on some fresh clean socks, hoping he hadn't caught a cold, and suddenly he heard an unfamiliar voice from downstairs. It must be Snape's visitor. 

Curiosity overwhelmed him, and he opened his door. The voices drifted upstairs quite clearly. 

"Severus…" said the unfamiliar voice, with a warning tone. It was a cultured male voice that Harry had never heard before. 

"Very well, I accept." Snape's voice sounded impatient and grudging. 

"Good. I will see you there then." There was a pop, as the owner of the voice Disapparated, obviously not one for goodbyes. Harry quietly pushed the door shut, and sat down on his bed. So Snape had accepted an invitation? To what? 

Footsteps ascending the stairs broke his train of thought. He sneezed again, and shivered. When he was younger, he used to get colds a lot (a result of insufficient diet and living in a cupboard, he suspected), and he remembered reading that freak storms and sudden changes in weather often brought colds… great. Living with Snape was bad enough, but living with Snape while trying not to sneeze his head off? Impossible. 

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	14. Eurrrrrrgggggghhhh.......and Letters.

Chapter 14

Disclaimer: This story is created on the basis of characters and situations found in the Harry potter books/ universe, which we lay no claim to and we are not making any money out of this so there is no point in suing us. This is the product of TWO minds….. Psychicpikachu and SilentShadow.

Dedicated to Lucy and Sophie, as always, and also with much thanks to P.A.R. for her/his mile-long review. You really helped us get back on track. Hopefully we should be getting some direction in the next chapters – we've started in this chapter.

Read and Review!

~*~

So here he was with a cold (most likely anyway) and on top of that he was bored out of his skull. What a jolly holiday it was.

Harry decided to organise his wardrobe out of sheer boredom, every 5 minutes getting up to look for Hedwig. He alphabetised his wardrobe according to the name of the garment, alphabetised it _backwards _and then re – organized it by colour, organised yet again it by how much he hated the garment, and finally alphabetically by the name of the colour.

By now it was time for dinner. He trudged down in a thoroughly bad mood.

Dinner was again excellent and he was slightly consoled by the fact at least he would have one holiday of decent meals, unlike the Dursleys.

Harry was by now feeling extremely bad and slightly dizzy, but his pride wouldn't let him appear ill to Snape and he made a determined effort to appear normal. Snape thankfully made no comment about his change of clothes. He said nothing whatsoever except to tell Harry to watch where he was going when he walked into the door.

Feeling woozy he made his way up the stairs, clasping tightly to the stair rail, and as soon as he got to his room he collapsed into bed, not even bothering to change into pyjamas. All night he tossed and turned, sinking into dozes only to be woken by bouts of coughing and sneezing. He just couldn't get comfortable on the pillow, and he felt far too hot even though he was shivering. Finally he slept lightly only to be woken by a knock on the door and the word of the house-elf that it was time for breakfast.

Feeling too rotten and tired for food Harry flopped back onto the bed and slept. He felt as though his head was being split open down the two halves of his brain with an extremely hot laser, and had a nasty looking bruise on his cheek from walking into the door yesterday at dinner, which was spreading purple along his cheekbone. He tossed and turned but he just couldn't sleep. He was lying there, miserable and thinking that he had had extremely bad luck lately, when he was suddenly startled out of his misery by Hedwig, who flew through the window and landed on his quilt.

Harry pulled the parchment off Hedwig's leg, and, smiling, read Sirius's letter.

_Dear Harry, _

_How are you? I'm glad the Howler got that rotten toad to let you out. If that scum sucking rat does anything else to you, owl me and I'll be more than happy to come and beat him up for you. _

_I'm staying at Lupin's for now; so don't worry about my safety. Write back, I want to know that everything's alright. _

_-Sirius _

Harry smiled weakly, and put the letter on the table next to his bed. He would write back later when he didn't have this awful headache.

He buried his head in the covers and rolled over, trying to get some sleep, and eventually managed to fall into a doze, when he was awoken by another owl flying through his window. Wondering if he would ever get any sleep, he took the letter off the owl, which he recognised as Hermione's Chandra.

Unrolling the parchment, Harry saw it had several tear marks, and the writing looked hurried.

_Dear Harry, _

_I hope you're alright, and Snape isn't treating you too badly. I'm coming back to England soon, and I hope to see you sometime. Maybe if you can go to the Burrow again, I could come down too. _

_It may be a surprise to you, but me and Krum aren't going out anymore. He dumped me this morning. I mean, he was very nice about it, and I didn't really feel comfortable with him anyway, but it's still upsetting. I should have seen it coming. I only came to see him because my parents wanted a holiday, and well, if we stayed with Krum they wouldn't have to pay anything. _

_I'm coming back to England in a few days, which should be less of a strain on Chandra when I write to you and Ron. _

_Write to me, just so I know you're ok. _

_-Hermione _

Harry read the letter through once more to see that he had understood it right the first time. Krum dumping Hermione was not good. She would be miserable for days, even weeks. Ron would be pleased though, no doubt about that. He hadn't liked Krum much since he had started going out with Hermione. He scribbled a sympathetic note on the back of the parchment with a handy quill, and said that he was still alright (he didn't mention the illness he had caught, not wanting to worry her) and sent Chandra out of the window.

He turned over in bed, and eventually fell into a light sleep. He slept through lunchtime, and was only awoken when Pig landed rather rudely on his bed, carrying his third letter of the day.

Grumbling slightly and rubbing his sore head, he reached out and took the letter, hushing Pig who was squawking excitedly. Couldn't Sirius have given Ron a quieter owl?

_Dear Harry, _

_Have you heard yet? Krum dumped Hermione! She's really upset, I'll kill that hook nosed git for this! Her letter was covered in tear marks. I swear I'll murder that Krum for hurting my Hermione! I'd rather throw myself in a vat of boiling acid than shake his hand. _

_I'm glad she only went to stay with him because that way she could get a free holiday. I never understood why she liked that rotten toad in the first place. He's so ugly! You-Know-Who would run screaming at the sight of him. He's probably the missing link between ape and man. _

_I reckon we should beat him up for hurting Hermione. Or learn some really horrible Dark spell and cast it on him. Or pull all his toenails out and make him eat them with sludge. Care to help? _

_-Ron. _

Harry laughed to himself as he re-read Ron's letter. But there was something strange about it. Surely he was a bit too angry? I mean, Hermione had said that she had seen it coming. He was definitely being a bit too over protective. And the 'my Hermione' bit just sounded rather strange. There was something he just didn't get, something important… His mind was too fuzzy with tiredness and headaches to think about it. He put the letter down on his table, rolled over and fell asleep in five minutes.

When he woke up, he suddenly knew, perfect and crystal clear, what had sounded so strange about the letter. He laughed to himself, picked up Ron's letter, and scribbled a very short note on the back.

_Do you fancy Hermione? _

_-Harry. _

_P.S. I'd love to help you beat up Krum. Lets introduce him to Voldemort. If we're lucky, he'll die of fright, having just enough time to kill him first. _

He sent the letter off with Pig, who had fallen asleep on Harry's desk and got one of his feathers dyed blue in the inkpot. Harry shook his head, and then lay down to sleep off this infernal headache. He wasn't sure what the time was but it looked to be about mid-afternoon. He tried to walk round the room but as he staggered upright he was seeing double. Misjudging his balance he walked into the door and hit his bruise on the doorframe painfully again. He flopped on the bed and crawled in. He'd try to get up later. First sleep.

No sooner had his head hit the pillow than he heard Snape's footsteps outside his door. No doubt he was coming to see why he hadn't been downstairs today. Harry pulled the blanket over his head, in case the sight of Snape made him more ill. The door creaked open.

"Sorry, I'm not dead yet." Harry muttered from under the blanket, adding in a quieter voice, "Better luck next time."

Snape left the room without comment, shutting the door behind him. Harry rolled over, and eventually fell asleep again.

He woke up to golden streams of sunlight pouring in over his floor, and realised it was morning. His headache had gone and he felt much better. He smiled sleepily to himself, and sank into a light blissful doze, before being fully awoken by the house elf's squeak of "Breakfast, sir!"

Having not eaten anything the day before, he was starving, and made his way down the stairs. Before he could enter the room, however, he heard voices from inside, and paused to listen.

"Headmaster." It was Snape's voice. Harry frowned. How could Dumbledore be here? And, more importantly, why?

He turned slightly so he could see into the room through the door, which was about an inch open. Dumbledore's head was in the fireplace, probably by the same magic as when he had spoken to Sirius in fourth year, just before the first task with the Hungarian Horntail.

"I'm glad I found you alone." came Dumbledore's voice, sounding tired and careworn, no doubt with all the worries after Voldemort had risen. "How is Harry?"

"Potter is **fine**." said Snape impatiently. "I presume that is not the only reason you are here?"

"No." replied Dumbledore. "I received some information today from another of our operatives." Harry could have sworn he glanced towards the door where he stood, and he pulled back to be more hidden from inside the room.

"What information, and what do you want me to do?" Snape was brief and to the point.

The next words Dumbledore said echoed around Harry's head again and again like an infernal horde of demons. "The Death Eaters have captured **Sirius Black.** I believe they mean to use him as a lure for Harry."

Harry slumped against the wall, his heart sinking.

~*~

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	15. A rescue mission...

This is the product of TWO minds, Silent shadow and psychicpikachu. We DO NOT own the characters, they belong to J.K.Rowling, we own the plot and events, well that's it. Read, enjoy, and please don't forget to REVIEW!!!!!!

Dedicated to our best friends Sophie and Lucy, and Hannah, our brave beta-reader. Thanks to all of them!

Sirius had been captured.

Harry stood slumped against the wall, his eyes closed. Somehow, he hadn't yet grasped the full concept. All he could feel was a terrible aching numbness somewhere inside himself. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. Somewhere under the blank numbness a spark of emotion, fear, panic, worry and guilt, was trying to fight its way to the surface.

"And you want me to do what?" Snape's voice filtered in, sounding cold and uninterested to Harry's ears. "Besides forbidding Potter to go after him?"

"He's being held in Rookwood's house. The same place you told me you had been invited to yesterday."

"So you want me to rescue him?"

Snape's voice sounded half amused, half incredulous. Through the tiny crack in the door – he did not dare open it further for fear of being seen – he could see Dumbledore's head in the fire, looking at Snape with a slightly reproachful look in his eyes.

"Severus, I know you dislike him…"

Harry's mind filtered out the rest of the conversation. Sirius was in danger. Dumbledore was sending Snape to find him. What was Dumbledore thinking? Everyone in possession of a shred of sanity could tell that Snape and Sirius hated each other as fiercely as it was possible to hate. So why was Dumbledore sending Snape after Sirius?

Dumbledore's voice broke in then, almost as if he could hear Harry's thoughts.

"You're the only person who will have the chance to get near him without breaking into the house. If it looks like Sirius has escaped unaided, they wont suspect anything. He did manage to escape from Azkaban, after all. But if they find signs that someone else has been there, they may be able to trace the rescuer."

"And what if they discover I helped him out?"

"You've done riskier things, and not been caught. You've done them with a great deal less argument, as well."

"Fine. I'll see if I can find out where exactly he is. I won't be able to get him while the house is swarming with Death Eaters, though. I'll have to go back later."

Dumbledore and Snape continued to talk about their rescue mission, completely unaware that Harry was standing outside the door. He leant on the wall, eyes closed, trying to fight the hot coal of worry and guilt that was burning somewhere in his stomach. He couldn't help but feel that it was his entire fault. If Sirius hadn't been his godfather, he never would have been captured. If Sirius hadn't been linked with him, he wouldn't have been targeted. And now the Death Eaters had him, using him as the worm on the end of a line that was meant to capture him, Harry.

He stood there until he finally heard Dumbledore's parting goodbye, and saw the headmaster's head disappear from the fire. He waited a minute, and then walked in, trying his best to look normal but certain he had gone paler than vanilla ice cream.

He took his customary seat at the table, ignoring to the best of his ability the cold flame of misery and fear that had settled in his stomach. He wondered whether Snape would tell him or not, but he just sat there and did not acknowledge his existence, lost in his own thoughts which Harry could only guess at.

He tried to eat his toast, but his mouth had gone dry, and he could only take tiny bites. Eventually, he gave up and went upstairs.

What should he do? He needed something to take his mind off Sirius. He should write to Ron and Hermione. But – curses! – he had sent Hedwig off to Ron with his letter. He was effectively cut off from any communication with them until they wrote back. He didn't know what to do, but the thought of doing nothing was more than he could stand. Full of frustration, he threw himself into the bed and buried himself under the covers. Sirius was in danger. All because of him. Captured, thrown in some Death Eater's dungeon. Lord only knew where he was. Or what he was going through…

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he mentally chided himself. Worrying never did anyone any good. He stared out of the window at the owl-free sky, the day's clear weather mocking his mood of anxiety and guilt. He had nothing better to do than wait for Hedwig, nothing to distract him. He desperately wanted to owl Ron or Hermione, to tell them what was going on. Maybe Ron would find out? Mr. Weasley might find out somehow. Then Ron could owl Hermione and him, so then he'd get letters from both of them…

Harry sighed and stared out of the window, searching the empty sky for any owl that might carry a letter of comfort. He wished, although he hated to admit it even to himself, he could get just one letter from his friends telling him everything would be alright. He felt more alone than ever.

He wondered why Snape hadn't told him about Sirius. After all, Harry had a right to know, considering Sirius was his godfather and the nearest thing to a parent he had. A small flame of anger lit itself inside him. Did they think he was too young to know? That he couldn't handle it? But then again, it was Snape, who would do almost anything to annoy him. He'd forgotten that.

Time dragged on and on. Harry tried to keep up a positive attitude, telling himself that Sirius would be fine, but he failed miserably and flickerings of worry flew across his mind. He scanned the sky and glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. It was still only just eleven. The clock moved minimally, its hands passing with infinite slowness across its face.

He whiled away the time till lunch by staring out of the window, continuing his lonely vigil for a letter. Finally one o'clock dawned, and Harry, his head still filled with unanswerable questions, made his way downstairs. 

The meal proceeded like any other he had had at Snape Manor: in silence. The meal was some kind of meat with vegetables, which Harry ate without really tasting.

About halfway through the meal, Snape said, "I will be going out this evening, so I shall not be here for dinner."

The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. "You're going to find Sirius, aren't you?"

Snape showed no surprise at the fact that Harry knew. Harry stared fixedly at his dinner plate, shovelling a forkful of vegetables into his mouth, and swearing mentally. _Crap. I really should not have said that._

"Actually, I'm going to a dinner party." said Snape, with absolutely no emotion in his voice whatsoever. "But while I am there, I shall also be trying to find Black." Harry noticed a sour note in his voice as he spoke Sirius's surname.

Harry swallowed, partly from nervousness. (And partly to clear his mouth of food.) "Professor, I…"

Snape interrupted. " I presume you overheard mine and Dumbledore's conversation this morning?" Harry nodded dumbly. Snape merely turned back to his food, and continued eating.

The meal continued in an exceptionally tense silence, until Harry finished his meal, and got up to go. As he left the room, Snape said, "And next time, try not to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation, Potter."

Harry scampered upstairs.

Feeling slightly ashamed of himself he flopped on his bed. 

So Snape was going after Sirius. Well Snape** was **on their side... although he _had_ heard the incredulity in Snape's tone....

No. Snape was trustworthy; he would try and find Sirius. After all Dumbledore trusted him. For Harry it would be like being told to rescue Malfoy. Even if he didn't like him he must trust him to do his best. 

And it wasn't as if Snape hadn't done this before, and they had a partial truce on. Well sort of. The brief shaking of hands hadn't been very enthusiastic...

But he must trust Snape and hope for the best. And cross his fingers of course.

Emboldened by the fact that Sirius was at least going to be looked for soon, his spirits lifted slightly that afternoon and the fear, misery and guilt seemed to recede a little.

It was, however, one of the longest afternoons of his life. He refused to let himself dwell on what would happen if they were caught... or if Snape failed.... instead he tried to focus on other things.

Like watching for Hedwig.

At six, however he was watching with his heart in his boots from the half-open door as Snape went sweeping by in what were presumably his dress robes for the evening. At first it seemed as if he was wearing his usual black, until the light caught it and it turned out to be grey. Absurdly he noted that they were plain robes and had (so far as he could see) no adornment on them.

He wondered how Snape was feeling right now. Scared? Angry? Resentful? Harry really didn't have a clue but he knew how he himself was feeling. It was a feeling of helplessness, of a desperate desire to help Sirius and to make up for what he had caused, to get Sirius back safe....

But there was _nothing _he could do. He didn't know the house, he didn't know where Sirius was being held, and there were no legitimate reasons for Harry Potter to be sneaking round the house of one of the most loyal Death eaters.

He heard Snape, from below, say ' Rookwood House'. That was it. He was off to rescue Sirius. Harry wished he could be there to help. What if it went wrong? What if Snape couldn't find Sirius? What if Sirius was in danger?

Then he went back into his room and sat down to wait. And hope.

Then his gaze lit on the trunk at the end of his bed. _He could go after Snape…_

He scrambled over to the trunk, threw open the lid, and searched frantically through its contents. Did he dare do this? But of course he would. That was a stupid question. Sirius was in trouble and that was what mattered.

Reaching into the depths of the trunk, he pulled out what he had been searching for – his father's Invisibility cloak. He stroked his fingers briefly over the soft fabric, then stood up, swung the cloak around himself, and vanished.

He walked downstairs, to the living room where he had first found the diary. There was no one around, so he was able to open the door without being seen. He slipped inside. Where was the Floo powder? On the mantelpiece? He took down a black urn-like pot with 'Floo Powder' enamelled on the side in white. It reminded him of one of the pots that you keep dead people's ashes in. He threw some powder into the fire, and shouted 'Rookwood House.'

The world span as he flew through the fireplace. He glimpsed other fires, praying he wouldn't end up in the wrong one, and then the world righted itself, and Harry stepped onto a stone floor in one of the largest and most ornate hallways he had ever seen.

It was huge. The walls looked to be made out of marble, and glass chandeliers sparkled as they hung from the high ceiling. The ceiling was covered in a gaudy painting of some illustrious fantasy world. The furniture in the room looked to be made from expensive woods, finely carved, with gold inlays and edgings. Obviously, whoever owned the house was extremely rich.

Through the open door at the end of the hall, Harry glimpsed Snape disappearing into a crowd of people through a large door at the end of the hall, which shut with a bang behind him. There seemed to be a large dinner-party going on.

It was only now that Harry realised he hadn't a clue where to go. This house was clearly huge. There was no telling where Sirius was. He swore softly under his breath.

Deciding that the only way he would find Sirius now would be by sheer luck, he decided to try all the doors leading off the hallway, of which there were about ten. He walked to the first one, opened it…

And walked straight into a broom closet.

Feeling slightly stupid, he quietly shut it, and walked to the next door. The ornate wooden door creaked open, and Harry found himself facing a flight of steps, leading down into darkness.

Dungeons, tradition decreed, were always under a house, so Harry followed the steps carefully down to the bottom, trying hard not to slip, as the stairs were rather narrow, and very long. He tried not to think about what would happen if he fell. Probably he would lie there, horribly injured until he was found and then...

Reaching the bottom, the room suddenly flared into light, making Harry stumble backwards before he realised it was a spell that turned the lights on whenever someone entered. Blinking in the sudden light, he realised he was in a cellar, and not the dungeons at all. There were no doors out. He turned to go, when suddenly something caught his eye. Something wooden in the stone floor, something with hinges, and a handle…

It was a trapdoor.

Thanking fate, which had seemingly decided to be kind to him, he pulled it up and looked down it. By the light of the cellar he saw that it led to more steps. He closed the trapdoor behind him was left alone in the inky darkness.

This was probably where the dungeons were. He took out his wand and whispered "_Lumos ". _The steps were smaller now and still narrow. The whole place was pitch black and started to get chillier. He guessed that he was getting more underground the further he went.

He had been going for what seemed an age when the light from his wand showed him there were no more steps.

He stepped forward and looked around. This was most definitely a dungeon. 

It was cold and it was dark. The flickering lamps mounted at intervals on the walls showed that there were cells all down one side of the wall. The other side there was a desk and a chair, and a high locked cupboard. There was no one there as far as he could see but he kept the Cloak on anyway.

Making his way cautiously and quietly he went to the side with the cells on and started to walk down, looking in everyone for Sirius. Eventually, right down at the end, two from the opposite wall he heard a noise.

Making his way to it and almost running in his desperation he felt a great bubble of hope blossom inside…

A man with long dark hair, by the flickering of the torches who sat up at the noise of his footsteps and....

He'd found Sirius.

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	16. Sirius is saved!

ok read the disclaimer in a diff chater. psychicpikachu helped write it. so.. plz review!!!!!

He'd found Sirius.

"Sirius! Are you ok?" At this Sirius turned, his eyes widening.

" Harry? Is that you? Where are you?"

Remembering that he was still covered by the Invisibility cloak, Harry quickly pulled the silvery fabric off his head, and walked over to the bars of the cell.

"What the hell are you doing here?" exclaimed Sirius. "Its too dangerous, what does Snape mean by sending you here?!"

"Snape doesn't _know_ I'm here. I sneaked out. Look, I can't get you out now, it's to dangerous, the house is swarming with Death Eaters…"

Sirius's looked somewhere between shocked and worried, most probably for Harry's safety.

"…but Dumbledore knows you've been captured and he's sent Snape for you."

Sirius opened his mouth again to speak.

" You can yell at me later. I would have stayed behind but I couldn't just do nothing at all, I'd have gone crazy. I've found you now and I'll tell Snape and he's going to come later and get you out, are you ok?"

" Harry- I'm fine. But it's too dangerous for you to be here right now. Don't worry about me. Listen, go back to Snape now ok?"

"Ok then. Where's your wand?" 

"On the desk but-"

"I'm going now then, we'll get you out somehow."

On his way he paused at the desk. There was a piece of paper on which was a rota for guard duties. This could be useful. He pocketed it to it to Snape and made his way to the steps.

With a massive grin at the fact that Sirius was fine and alive he started back up the steps faster this time. But the fact remained that Snape would somehow have to orchestrate getting him out of there... at this his grin faded somewhat. He had almost reached the trapdoor when he heard a noise above. 

Heart pounding he heard voices above his head. Praying they were not coming down there - for the cloak may have made him invisible but didn't stop him being solid - he listened hard trying to distinguish what they were saying. Two rough voices filtered down to him.

" More ice he sent us for." 

" Bloody knobs sipping their fancy wine and chardonnay...." A second disgruntled voice.

"Shh- if the master hears you-" 

" Here I've got the ice lets go back up-"

The sound of footsteps clumping up the stairs filtered to him.

Breathing a sigh of relief he wiped the sweat off his forehead and continued up until he was just below the trapdoor. He swore silently.

There did not seem to be a way of opening the trapdoor from the inside.

He forced himself to keep calm and look for a ring or something. After two minutes of searching with only the soft glow of his wand (which he had lit despite the ministry rules, figuring that with all the magic that must be going on in this house, nobody would be able to tell) he found a tiny lever that lifted it. No doubt the system had been put in place to deter escaping prisoners. He made a mental note to tell Snape. 

He ran quickly through the cellar wanting to get Snape to tell him what he knew... and he was back at the stairs again. Barely pausing to catch his breath he started to climb the flight of steps. He put out his wand _"Nox" _andslipped it back in his pocket. In a minute he had reached the top of the stairs and, looking out for anyone coming, he slipped out of the door and back into the ornate hallway once more. 

Now came the problem - how to get to Snape. Luckily his problem was soon solved as Snape was edging out of the door at the end of the hall and was moving toward where the door was, pretending to be admiring the ceiling. Harry made his way towards Snape (who was casting furtive glances towards the rest of the guests) and spoke.

" Professor I've found Sirius-"

"**_Potter?!" _**This was in an incredulous and shocked hiss.

"You haven't much time I've found Sirius, and he's…"

" Slow down. _What are you doing here?_"

" Never mind that.... you can yell at me later only we haven't much _time_-"

Harry never knew what it was that had made him speak like that to Snape but it was something to do with the feeling that Snape would get caught here **_soon._**

So in a rush he gave the details of where Sirius was, where his wand was, and the fact that the cellar lit up when someone entered. He gave the rota of guards to Snape who barely glanced at it.

Snape listened to it all and when Harry finally stopped speaking he held up a hand.

" Now go back to the manor_. Quickly_. No arguments."

Heart lightened, Harry walked to the fireplace in the thankfully abandoned hall. After taking some Floo Powder from the jar (heavily ornate) on the mantelpiece, Harry threw the Floo powder in and had a last glimpse of Snape staring at the ceiling before he was whirled back to Snape Manor.

The world spiralled away and then he was back in the living room. Feeling slightly euphoric that he had been successful and that there was now a real chance of getting Sirius out his tiredness caught up with him and he made his way to his room where he fell asleep.

Waking much later, about midnight, he needed a glass of water. And the obvious place for that was the kitchen. He gulped down his glass of water, glad for the feel of the ice-cold glass. He put his glass in the sink and walked towards the door of the room, only to be halted by the sight of Snape coming in. This time he was dressed in his customary black robes. He also carried a big black hood that from the size of it Harry would guess that it hid most of his face.

Harry had a bad feeling because Snape's face went from 'normal Snape' to 'very angry Snape' when he saw him. Harry backed away as the last time he had seen Snape this angry, Snape had almost gotten Sirius killed, and told everybody that Lupin was a werewolf.

Harry was suddenly glad that he wasn't a werewolf.

He was on the first step and standing there. " Oh hello Professor" he said rather lamely.

" Potter what on earth did you mean by going there!"

"um-"

"Are you stupid boy? You KNEW it was a Death Eater house, and what if you had been caught!"

Snape wasn't yelling but his tone was so vehement he might have been.

Harry backed away even further. " What exactly did you hope to achieve by going there…" Harry was used to people yelling at him, heaven knows the Dursleys did it so much but Snape was a different matter. So he stood there and listened. He let the words wash over him like very violent waves on a beach.

" -Don't know what you were thinking… fame is not the thing that will carry you through life…after I told you not to go"

"You never told me that I couldn't go"

This quiet statement earned him a dark look from Snape.

" I was relying on your common sense of which you obviously have none at all…."

Finally Snape was finished and Harry was pleasantly surprised that he hadn't been turned into a frog. Or a snake. Or some other reptile.

Harry stood there and watched as Snape strode further into the kitchen and looked for his wand. Presumably he was going to Apparate there.

"Good luck".

Snape swung round to look at him. Harry returned his gaze without blinking. And with a _pop_ Snape disappeared.

Harry stood there in disbelief. Had he just actually wished Snape good luck?

So all he could do now was wait. And wait he would. Too nervy to sleep he threw on some more clothes on top of his pyjamas (the house was chilly at night) and waited. He had no idea how long this would take and he found himself pacing back and forth to kill time and settle the restless feeling that invaded him.

The minutes ticked away like hours. He forced himself not too look at the clock at all and concentrated on pacing instead. He wondered how Snape was getting back. Would he Apparate again or use Floo powder? It occurred to him that the fire in the living room would need stoking up if Snape were to use Floo powder. He went there and found a handy log holder and dropped one on the fire. Harry had never thought the day would come when he would be making sure Snape could get back.

So he waited. Growing tired of pacing he sat and contemplated. How was Snape going to get Sirius out of the dungeon? Well that was one thing he would have to ask Sirius along with the growing list of questions that he had.

His thoughts returned to the diary and the contents… and the photo. What would Sirius say about the photo? Harry tried to imagine his expression. Probably one of deep, deep disgust.

So all thoughts of disturbing photos aside he went on with his pacing. And waiting.

Suddenly there were two loud pops. Harry jumped up to find himself looking at a bedraggled Sirius and a sour faced Snape. Inside him was a mad jumble of fireworks that were filling him with relief and happiness. However his tongue seemed to have been caught.

Sirius grinned at Harry. Harry returned it wit a grin that he felt would crack open his face. Snape scowled.

" Hi." said Sirius. Harry was fighting a mad impulse to hug Sirius. He abstained not wanting to in front of Snape.

"Hi." said Sirius, who was looking at the dark colour scheme of Snape's house and obviously fighting a mad desire to laugh.

Snape looked vindictive. "You're going back to Lupin's tomorrow," he said, 'but you'll have to spend the night here.' Snape looked as though he'd rather eat a bucket of Bubotuber pus than have Sirius sleeping in his house. "You'll be sleeping in Potter's room." he added, and swept out.

Harry and Sirius took one look at each other and burst into laughter. When they had finished Sirius looked at him seriously.

"Harry, you know how dangerous it was coming after me like that…"

"Did you Snape's already given me this talk?" asked Harry.

"Did you pay any attention to him?"

"No."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Right. It's past midnight. Lets get some sleep."

Harry and Sirius walked up the stairs to his room. "So this place isn't all done in green and black?" Sirius remarked upon entering the room. He then proceeded to amaze Harry by doing a tricky bit of Transfiguration and turning a broken quill into a rather nice bed, crowded with practically every single bright colour possible (a nice change after all the dark depressing colours.)

And so Harry settled into bed, the late hour and the exhausting day finally catching up with him, and he barely had enough time to mutter a "Goodnight, Sirius." before he was fast asleep. 


	17. A Fork Hunt???

Thank you to all our reviewers, for your support and comments. This is dedicated to Hannah, our wonderful beta reader, Sophie (Slate) and Lucy (Doce). All three are quite frankly wonderful people who put up with us in our periods of annoyingness, insanity and general weirdness.

Ok so this is Chapter 17 and we don't own Harry Potter at all, or any part of it. We make no money at all. This is written by Silent Shadow and Cyropi (who wishes it made known that she has changed her penname from psychicpikachu to Cyropi)

So here we go…

_Alone in the graveyard apart from the dark cloaked figures. He realised what was coming next and wanted to wake up but couldn't._

_ He stood there, paralysed in the clichéd manner of all worst nightmares, knowing what would happen but utterly powerless to change anything._

_ Voldemort appeared, his red eyes glowing in the darkness, his voice the hiss he remembered all too well. Mockingly thanking him for his unwilling gift of blood._

_Cedric appeared, silent and accusing. He opened his mouth to utter the words Harry knew all too well. Harry was pleading, " I didn't know. I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't know…" Hermione and Ron and Sirius were there, all looking on him with identical accusing stares, all hating, it was his fault, it was his fault._

_Voldemort was in front of him and he was turning his wand on him and again he felt the pain of the Cruciatus curse. His scar was burning he was shaking and…___

"Harry! Harry wake up!" Sirius was standing over him, his hand on his shoulder, a worried expression on his face. The light was on and he realised where he was.

"What? Oh its you." Slightly dazed Harry sat up and blinked. Suddenly it dawned on him. He must have woken Sirius up. 

"Are you ok? You were screaming and talking…" 

Oh damn. Now he had woken Sirius up as well. He began to feel the burnings of shame and prayed he wasn't going red.  Sirius had had a hard time and now he had woken him up. Sirius would think he'd lost his nerve. That he couldn't cope… 

"I'm fine. Completely fine. I'm sorry I woke you up, go back to sleep. You must be really tired…" 

            Sirius interrupted his babble in mid flow.  

"Harry… I might have missed a lot, but I don't think its normal to scream in your sleep. Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine. Never been better. I think I'll go to sleep now. I'm really tired"

Sirius looked sceptical at this but didn't press the point further. He turned off the light and went back to bed. Harry lay there awake in the dark awake and miserable. He really didn't like lying to Sirius but he didn't want him to think he was a baby. So another sleepless night. He tried to take his mind off his nightmare by counting dragons  (more interesting than sheep!) but failed. 

            The darkness was too dark, the shadows lending themselves to imitations of Death Eaters and hate-filled eyes. He was far too conscious of Sirius's presence, knowing all too well that he was lying awake too, and almost feeling his worry as if it was rolling off him in great waves. It made him feel guilty.

A while later Sirius spoke, his voice penetrating the darkness. Harry was secretly glad that he spoke (but would not have admitted it).

"Come on, Harry, I know you're awake."

Harry answered. "Yeah"

"So much for 'fine'. Do you want to tell me about it?"   He spoke kindly. Kindness was something else. At least no reproach was audible in his voice. 

Before Harry could answer that he carried on. 

"You do know you can talk to me about anything, you know…" 

"Sirius I'm fine. Just not very sleepy…" and Harry trailed off there because Sirius had got up and turned on the light. He crossed the room and sat on the end of Harry's bed. 

"Have you been having them a lot?"       

"Yes", frankly he was too tired to lie. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry was now looking at the bed, unwilling to meet Sirius's gaze.

"Didn't think you'd be interested. It doesn't really matter anyway, its not very important…" he trailed off.

"Harry, what makes you think I wouldn't want to know? You know that you're important to me." The gentle reproach was more effective than shouting. Harry wished he would shout. Shouting he could cope with, kindness made him feel guilty.

"You really aren't gonna go back to sleep are you?"

Quickly Harry broke in. "I don't mind, you go to sleep NOW."

" Nah, I'm not tired like I thought." Sirius cast around for something to do. "How about chess?"

" Ok then."

Harry watched as Sirius transfigured a scrap of paper into a chessboard. This was slightly impressive, especially the inventive way he swore when his concentration slipped and the squares ended up as triangles. Harry didn't really know how that could happen to the chessboard. 

" Wizard or Muggle?"

" Wizard"

" Fine."

As they played (an exciting game with Harry's Queen being slightly overenthusiastic) they talked of everything, from Quidditch to Chess.

Inevitably the conversation rolled back to Snape. Sirius questioned Harry on what Snape was like around the house and nodded when Harry described his 'angry' attitude. 

"Snape isn't all bad. He has some human in him." Sirius said, while trying to take Harry's bishop. "Never tell anyone I told you that or my entire reputation is ruined."

Harry nodded, while trying to find a way to Sirius's knight. "I thought it was already ruined?"

Sirius waved this aside with a flippant motion of his hand.

"He once saved your mother you know…2 Sirius's voice trailed off as he was caught in reflections.

"Snape?!" At this chess was forgotten. Harry gaped. Snape of all people??!!

"Yep. You want to hear about it?"

            Sirius looked slightly amused at the look on Harry's face, incredulous and shocked. 

            "Go on, tell me"

_It had been a summer's day, gloriously bright and sunny. Sirius, James and Remus had all been lying on the grass discussing Quidditch moves, and pitying Peter, who was locked up inside doing extra Transfiguration work. _

_Suddenly Snape had walked into view with his arm around Lily who looked upset. James leapt up and ran over to them, wrenched Snape away and demanded to know what was going on. _

_Sirius and Remus were slightly amused, as they knew that James er…liked…Lily but as Lily was their friend as well, they sprang up and took out their wands. Snape took out his and the whole thing seemed to be leading to a fight._

_Lily intervened at that moment.  _

_"Don't, you three.  Severus just saved me from Lucius Malfoy."  At that moment they became aware of a large red handprint on her face_

_" What happened?" growled James. " I was walking on my own and Lucius came up…" Here she swallowed and continued. " He came up and he grabbed me… and he was dragging me and trying to kiss me." _

_James and Sirius growled with rage at this. Lily continued. " Lucius was dragging me and I couldn't scream until he came up for air and then I kicked him and he slapped me and then we were by the tree.  Severus was there and he saw what was happening so he cast a hex on him. And then he punched him. He knocked him out and I think he broke his nose."_

_Remus and Sirius looked at the scowling Snape with awe._

_"Was Lucius intending to …"choked James, quite unable to finish the sentence due to pure anger._

_"I imagine so, otherwise he would hardly be heading for one of the most secluded places on the grounds. " drawled Snape.  _

_"I'll kill him." said Remus, Sirius and James in union. Snape seemed amused._

_"Would you let me go now?" said Snape. He walked off into the grounds._

_"Thank you again Severus. I'll never forget it." called Lily.  Grudgingly Remus, James and Sirius muttered their thanks as well. _

_Snape turned around, and smiling walked up to Lily and kissed her hand. Then he bowed, surprisingly elegant and walked off._

"Really?" 

"Yep.  That was a one off though." replied Sirius, pointing at him with the bishop.

"That is _disturbing_. To say the least."  Sirius grinned at this.  Then Harry remembered something else really disturbing.

"Sirius…" he said slowly. "You know the reason I asked you whether Snape and my Mum were friends…."

"Yes" Sirius said slowly, looking up at Harry from a complicated move. 

"Well, the thing is," before he said anything else incriminating he got up and checked outside. He returned feeling quite stupid as the corridor was deserted, but he lowered his voice anyway before continuing.

"I was sort of sitting in the living room when… I sort of found Snape's work diary." These words came out in a rush. Sirius reaction was one of disbelief mixed with amusement and insatiable curiosity. Harry hurried on. "In the back was…was a picture of my mum."

Now the face had changed. The look was priceless. It was a classic mixture of shock, horror and disgust. Harry would have given almost anything to have had a camera at that precise moment.

"_What_?" said a shocked Sirius.

The following conversation continued well past dawn, when Harry finally fell asleep over the chess game, managing by some extreme of good fortune, to make the winning move with his hand as he flopped across the board.

A few hours later he woke to find Sirius sprawled across his multi-coloured bed. Harry had somehow managed to get into his bed. Sirius was snoring slightly. Feeling refreshed, and not wanting to wake Sirius he crept across to the shower.

A while later after showering and dressing, he woke Sirius up and watched in amusement as Sirius groan and get up bleary-eyed.

Suddenly the events of the night before came back to him and he felt the beginnings of embarrassment hit him. 

Sirius meanwhile had loped off to the shower after performing a quick cleaning spell on his clothes. 

He came out, hair dripping and looking much fresher. Just then the house-elf came and announced breakfast. They went downstairs, Harry dreding the confrontation.

Snape and Sirius at breakfast. The tension was going to be tremendous at the least.

They sat down at the table just as Snape arrived. The tension could be felt as the meal progressed. Harry desperately tried to make conversation with Sirius, who was busy returning dark looks from Snape. 

"Could you pass the eggs?" This was to Snape with forced politeness. Snape wordlessly passed the eggs down the table; Sirius thanked him in the same forced tone. 

Harry would have laughed had the tension not been so intense.

He tried desperately to make conversation between them, and failed miserably for most part. Sirius responded in monosyballic terms and Snape just ignored him. He was at the end of his ingenuity when a random topic popped into his head and out of his mouth. 

"Which do you prefer Sirius, vodka or whisky?" 

Sirius looked at Harry with an expression halfway between puzzlement and amusement. Snape just sent a withering look at him. Harry wished he could melt out of sight.

"Underage drinking." said Sirius, looking nowhere in particular. "Now there's something I can relate to."

At this Snape looked up just as Sirius seemed to remember himself and say sternly

"But Harry, that's something that you should never do, at all. Even though it does lead to bad hangovers… But it's very wrong." he finished sheepishly.

Snape's glares became so evilly cold at this remark that Harry dived under the table, exclaiming, "Dropped my fork!"

He sat there wishing he could disappear. Sirius's head appeared under the table as well.

"Harry what the hell are you doing there!" he asked in a whisper.

"Hiding from Snape." he replied. Seeing Sirius's weird look, he added, "Well what would you do? If looks could kill I'd be six feet under!"

"Good point. By the way, you left your fork on the table."

Harry swore quietly. "Will you knock it down?"

"Having a nice fork hunt?" asked Snape sarcastically.

Sirius surreptitiously swept Harry's fork off the table, accidentally catching Harry in the forehead.

 As soon as he judged it was safe, or as safe as it was going to get anyway, Harry climbed up and sat down. Snape have him a bad-tempered glare.

Sirius said nonchalantly, "You know, I have a preference for neither., really."

Harry was trying not to laugh. Snape was ignoring them completely, probably wishing that he had never heard of either of them. 

Eventually breakfast was over and they all stood up. Sirius smiled at Harry who was now feeling glum. 

"So, I'll try and see you later Harry, but I've got to get back to…."

"Yeah, yeah I understand. Just… just take care of yourself Sirius ok?"

"I will, I promise. Bye then, Harry. Thank you, Severus, for your hospitality."

To Harry's amazement he extended a hand which Snape shook, although they let go quickly.

Sirius wiped his hand surreptitiously on his robe. Harry saw Snape do the same and had to fight a laugh.

With that he took a pinch of the Floo Powder, threw it in the fire, waved to Harry who smiled back and went.

Harry was still feeling glum so he trudged upstairs and was comforted by the sight of Sirius's bed, still there in all its multi-coloured glory. 

Thank you for reading! We hope you enjoyed it, please review!


	18. Oh when the snakes go hissing in...

            A/N: Thank you again to all our reviewers for putting up with us over the long wait. Well we updated at last! Sorry – we've had revision, subject choices, and one of us is banned from the fanfiction world for an indefinite period.

Dedicated as always to Hannah our beta-reader, Slate, and Doce (now Lucifer after showing her Slytherin streak)

We haven't bought the rights to Harry Potter since our last chapter, unfortunately. The series belongs to J.K.Rowling and a few big companies. Go sue someone else.

Enjoy! More and better content will be in later chapters *cough*20*cough* 

~*~

Glum and disconsolate Harry flopped onto the multi-coloured bed. Was it only last night Sirius had been here? It seemed a lifetime ago. He felt lonely but slightly comforted by the fact that Sirius was at least safe now.

            He scanned the skies for Hedwig, but there was no sign of her or any other owl. Now he was again all alone with no one to talk to except Snape. He would rather talk to the wall. It would be a more animated conversation.

            Looking on the bright side, at least he wasn't being made to chores like he would have done at the Dursleys. At the Dursleys he would probably have had to clean the kitchen or the bathroom, mow the lawn, tidy up, and other chores. Here he had nothing to do. Nope. Absolutely nothing. And he was bored.

            A thought struck him – what would he do about the bed? He didn't actually need a second bed but he liked its presence – cheerful and clashing, a link to Sirius, and besides Snape would probably hate it. Maybe he was being sentimental, maybe stupid, but he didn't want to see it go.

            He pushed it across so that it was next to his own bed – not only did this create more space in the room, it also gave him a gigantic bed to sleep on..

            The question of the bed sorted, he was left with the niggling problem of what to do. He tided the chess set into his trunk, not wanting Snape to confiscate it, and left his room out of sheer boredom. He sat on the top stair, and watched with disinterest what was going on downstairs.

             The front door was open, and Snape was standing there taking deliveries of large boxes from a short fat wizard with a clipboard. Snape spent about a minute on the doorstep, talking in low murmurs, and then came in. He didn't see Harry, too busy levitating several boxes into his workroom near the kitchen. Harry wondered briefly what could be in them, before quickly deciding he really didn't want to know.

            Harry, being bored, decided to try and aggravate Snape. Dangerous, he knew, but boredom pushed you to do things like that. After contemplating Snape-annoying plans for a minute or two, he started to whistle a tune. Not just any tune. It was 'When the saints go marching in.' This was one of the most annoying tunes he knew. 

            Snape stayed in his workshop for a while, but after about five minutes of repeated whistling he came out. Harry stopped, mid-whistle, and tried to look 'innocent'. As soon as Snape went back into the workshop, he started again.

 This pattern continued for the next half-hour or so. Snape didn't look like he was coming out to stop Harry whistling, but with Snape, you could never tell. Each time he came out it was harder and harder to maintain a straight face. 

Until, about the fifth time (or maybe sixth? He'd lost count.) Snape appeared, he seemed to have given up on pretending he couldn't hear Harry, and was advancing to the bottom of the stairs with an angry look on his face he opened his mouth to say something, and Harry scampered to the safety of his room.

Safely inside, he broke down into an immature splutter. So it was rather silly, but it had alleviated his boredom, and it was a fun, easy way to annoy his least favourite teacher.

He passed the next few hours hiding in his room, inventing silly competitions with himself (e.g. guess which sock colour I pulled out of my trunk at random) and trying to play chess against himself.

At one o'clock, he was hungry enough to risk facing Snape, and made his way downstairs. Lunch was good as usual, cottage pie with various mushy vegetables. The meal proceeded in a silence that was more charged than usual, which didn't bother Harry though after all the meals he'd had here. He sat eating, lost in chains of thought. Disturbing recollections of Sirius's story…Snape…and his mum? Lucius Malfoy… a number of swearwords applicable to him that would have shocked Hermione…

He was just getting up from the table when Snape spoke to him with a sharper edge to his voice than normal. "Potter," he spat, "while you are here you should make yourself useful. Come."  More swearwords. He led the way into his workroom. The workroom was full of bubbling cauldrons and benches covered with potion ingredients. One corner was also full of the boxes he had seen earlier.

Snape pointed to a bench, which had nothing on it but a glass tank that at first seemed to contain only branches and leaves, but also contained a green-grey snake.

'Extract some venom.' he said shortly, before swishing off out of the room. A pair of dragon-hide gloves lay on the table with a vial there as well. Picking them up he advanced towards the snake. 

Extract some venom? That snake was probably poisonous. Maybe after the annoyance this morning Snape was hoping Harry would get bitten and die? He hoped not.

Glancing round nervously, as if a Grim awaited him in the shadows, Harry nervously approached the snake's tank. He heard a hissing voice emanate from inside the tank:

'Oh great, another damned person going to poke around with my poor fangs… just great…'

Harry had never really considered this from the snake's point of view. He supposed it must be like a trip to the dentist. He could still remember how much Dudley had cried when the Dursleys took them. He, conversely, had liked the dentist. It had been one of the few times he'd ever been able to have sweets, as the dentists offer of 'As you've been such a good boy, you can have a sweet. But remember to brush your teeth afterwards!' had been one the Dursleys couldn't refuse.

'Sorry.' he replied, looking apologetically at the snake. 'I wouldn't myself, but Snape made me.'

'Ah, that greasy-haired git?' hissed the snake, rearing up a little to see Harry better. 'He's a total sadist, the way he treats us snakes. Locked up in these damned cages' – here he banged the glass disconsolately with his tail – 'getting venom taken out of us, and being fed on these filthy dead rats.' He made a face. (Well as far as snakes can make faces)

'Poor you.' Harry replied sympathetically. 

'So what brings you here?' asked the snake, a little more gently. ' The git doesn't really seem the type to have children.' 

Between gasps of laughter he set the snake straight. 'The head teacher sent me here. Apparently it's 'safer'. I doubt it though.'

The snake nodded inn agreement. 'What's he like? Because if his face… and hair are anything to go by….'

Harry smiled at this. ' Well he hates me. He might be a nice person inside, under all the grease, but the greasy bastard side is probably strangling that person, and trying to decapitate it. 

Harry was starting to enjoy the conversation, he had had limited access to people this holiday, and snakes were the next best thing. 

The conversation continued for a while after, Harry forgetting that he was there to extract venom. They touched on many topics and the snake was laughing at Harry's 'When the saints go marching in.' trick. 

'So, do you have any children?' the snake sighed at this. 

'Two. The nest was destroyed along with the rest of the eggs.'

'I'm sorry.' Harry hadn't really thought about this side of snakes before. He made a mental note to get Hermione in on this, if only to stop the house-elves at Hogwarts (and generally everywhere) thinking she was mad.

In the middle of telling the snake about S.P.E.W, he heard a door open. 

' So what do you think about it?' he was asking when Snape's voice invaded the conversation.

' Potter, what _are you doing?' _

' Talking to the snake, Professor.'

'Talking to the—ah yes. Well I suggest that you get on with the extraction and stop _hissing  (this word was delivered like an insult) to your little friend.'_

He sat down at the desk in one corner of the room, and started making notes in something that looked extremely like algebra. Harry hadn't seen much algebra, except in Hermione's arithmancy homework, so he might have made a mistake.

' Well you'd better get it over with' said the snake resignedly.

' I'm sorry,' said Harry, ' I really don't want to but… if you tell me if I'm hurting you… '

'Its quite alright, just Ill tell you how to do it the easy way. '

Snape cast a dark look at the two of them, then went back to his work.

And so, following the hissed instructions from the snake ('Hold me further down! You're squeezing my spleen!) Harry began extracting the venom.

He had the vial about a quarter full when suddenly a ball of fluff flew in the window. It fluttered around a few times, before flying straight into Snape, and falling onto the parchment, where it revealed itself to be an owl. Pig.

Harry tried not to laugh. Snape pulled the letter off, and Harry's heart froze. That letter – Ron's answer! About Hermione… and if Snape read it, he doubted Ron would ever be seen without red ears again.

'You look like you've just arrived at the dragons cave and had forgotten your wand.' Remarked the snake, attempting to be witty. 

'If he reads that letter…' said Harry. He explained in a few short hisses all about his previous letter to Ron.

'It is addressed to you.' said Snape, propping it up on his table. 'You may have it when you've finished the venom extraction.'

Both Harry and the snake gave similar hisses of relief. Harry continued the extraction, and soon finished, being sure to put the snake carefully into the cage. Snape stood, picked up the vial, and walked out of the room.

'Back to prison, I guess.' said the snake morosely.

Harry was struck with an idea. It was from the same part of his brain that had suggested 'Let's go to the Death Eater party and rescue Sirius!'. Although the more rational parts were telling him that that kind of idea led to nothing but danger, that he was being reckless, and that that part of the brain was up to no good, Harry ignored them all and went with his plan.

He bent down to the cage and picked up the snake. 'Where are you taking me?' it asked. Harry walked to the window, and opened it slightly.

 'I'm setting you free.'

'Won't Snape kill you when he finds out?'

Harry shrugged, letting the snake flow through the opened window. 'Go on, get out of here. And good luck!'

He'd actually grown quite fond of the snake; it had provided some non- Snape rational contact. 

'Good luck to you too!' said the snake, and slithered off, hissing as it went, 'YES! I'm free! Anastasia, where are you?'

Harry heard footsteps approaching. He swore mentally. Not good.

He hurried quickly over to the desk, and picked up his letter, pretending to be bust examining it as Snape walked in. Maybe he wouldn't notice…

'Potter, where is the snake?'

So much for not noticing.

'Harry swivelled round, hoping he didn't lok too guilty. 'The snake, professor?' he asked pretending to look slightly puzzled. His eyes looked at the cage, and he acted surprised. 'It got out? I only left it open for a minute.'

Snape gave him the kind of cold glare that said 'I don't believe you for a minute.' Harry kept an innocently apologetic look on his face. 'I'm very sorry professor.' He said. He contemplated following this up with something humble, but decided on, 'There's lots of snakes out on the moorland.'

'How do you know that?'

'The snake told me.'

Snape cast an extremely icy glare at him, and swept out. Harry fought the urge to laugh, but instead ran upstairs to open his letter.

Sitting on his beds, he tore it open.

_Hey Harry,_

_            Guess what? Mum's been pestering Dumbledore (continuously) and he's said you could come round for the day again! She's been going on about you all the time, stuck with, and I quote, 'That evil man,, don't know why Dumbledore hired him, prejudiced against almost everyone but those no-good Slytherins…' honestly, she's been nearly obsessed with getting you out of there. So Dumbledore says its all arranged, Snape wont have said anything being evil, you're coming by Floo at nine o'clock again, the day after tomorrow. Hermione will be there too._

_What do you think of Hermione?_

_-Ron_

Harry rolled his eyes. The final short paragraph was written hurriedly. He got a piece of paper and scribbled a reply.

_Ron,_

_            Can't wait to see you two! Have some very important stuff to tell you (he STILL hadn't told them about Sirius being kidnapped) __and generally want to get out of this house._

_I think of Hermione as a very good friend. ANSWER THE QUESTION WEASLEY!_

_-Harry _

Harry sent Hedwig off out of the window, smiling. Mrs. Weasley should be given an award. He much doubted if there was anyone else capable of pestering Dumbledore into letting him come round for another day.

The evening wore on, time slowed painfully by excitement, full of boredom and dinner and boredom and sleep. The slowness of time gave him plenty of time to think, however. Think about the day after tomorrow. Think about Ron and Hermione. Think about Sirius. Think about how much he wanted to be back at Hogwarts. Think about how much he disliked Snape. Think, in general, about everything that had happened this holiday – and wonder about what was yet to come.

~*~

Well thank you for reading! We apologise for the abominably long wait. With luck, we'll be able to get it up sooner. Well, please review!


	19. Forward to Tomorrow

Disclaimer: We don't own Harry Potter. We'd like to, but unfortunately, its already taken. Go sue someone else; we really don't have time for that. A/n.: Thank you again to all the wonderful reviewers and we hope you enjoy this chapter. Dedicated as always to Hannah, Sophie and Lucifer. (Warning from Cyropi: Shameless self plug from Silent Shadow below! I had no part in it.) Silent Shadow also wishes to announce that she has several other fics up, as well, and Cyropi will have her first (long!) HP fic up very soon (she's trying to get at least halfway through it before starting to post). Please check them out!  The full list of thank you's to all the people who have helped us so far will be in Chapter 20. Chapter 19 

Harry fell asleep quickly and had a dreamless night, something that he was particularly grateful for. He woke, sprawled half across Sirius's bed, which was still there in all its multi-coloured glory. One of the pillows had somehow got onto his head, so he took this off and sat up, reaching for his glasses as he did so. Then the memory of the previous day's letter hit him. One more day and he would be at the Weasley's! 

The clock opposite him proclaimed that it was half-past eight in the morning. Feeling more wide-awake than normal Harry got ready and went downstairs for breakfast. Snape wasn't down as yet, so he had the kitchen to himself. Breakfast wasn't ready yet, (scrambled eggs and toast, from the smell) so he sat there looking around and enjoying the sunshine that was pouring in through the large windows. 

The house was quiet and peaceful, and yet again he relished the fact that he wasn't cooking bacon for Dudley, or making tea for Uncle Vernon. What was he going to do today? There was…. Nothing. Hmm. He could take his duvet apart, and put it back together again? Lost in his thoughts he was tracing the grain of the table with his fingers when an owl swooped through a window and deposited a newspaper on the table. 

Not having any news of the outside world for close on two weeks Harry was extremely glad to have a chance of reading about what was going on. 

Curious to see whether Hermione had released Rita Skeeter yet, he picked it up and began reading. The various news was not very exciting and not much really had happened, well at least that the Prophet had heard about.

One of the most interesting articles was;

_"…**Daily Prophet** reporter **Rita Skeeter** has recently reappeared into the public eye, after an absence of several weeks. _

_Rumours have abounded around her disappearance, including that the Ministry had disposed of her, fed up with her constant criticism. Another was that she had been eaten by a rabid Hippogriff.   _

_Famed for her "no-nonsense" _(Harry snorted at this)_ style of reporting and the consequences and controversial results that her articles have_ (Harry knew all about this)_ she remains one of Britain's most high-profile reporters… She refuses to confirm rumours that she was captured by the Ministry and used for controversial experiments. Claims have been made that she had her brain removed and then put back in a different manner. There have been allegations that goats were involved…"_

The rest of the news was unsurprising, Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for magic was refusing to either confirm or deny rumours of Voldemort's return, a dragon had been sighted by Muggles, etc. 

By this time the food was ready but he didn't pay much attention to it. However there was one article that made his heart drop into his boots. Or would do if he had boots.

In the "Announcements" column, there was a certain notice. About a certain person.

"_Today, In Crofter's Field, a memorial service is being held for Cedric Diggory. This is the time for relatives and friends of the 17 year old, to pay their respects if they so choose to. _

_His parents, Amos and Marge Diggory wish to make it known that friends, and relatives who have not already been informed of this are welcome at the service and that mourning dress is optional. _

_All who knew him described the 17 year old as a wonderful person.  "_

Harry sat there, a blank look on his face. Memorial service, memorial service chanted some part of his mind… 

Just then Snape entered and went to the other end of the table. 

Harry didn't notice him; he was too busy staring into some place that only he could see. 

Snape asked something, Harry dragged his mind away and paid attention. 

"…newspaper?" Snape was saying.

"Er… yeah. Sorry Professor"    

            Harry pushed the paper across the table. The plate in front of him had scrambled eggs on it. He didn't feel like eating them now. However not wanting to wait till lunch for a meal, he ate most of what was on his place but couldn't stomach any more. Snape gave him an odd look, as he made his way to the sink. Harry couldn't know that he looked quite strange at the moment, with his expression that he was looking at something that only he could see. Which was true.

He went upstairs and tried his best to think about something happy. He looked long and hard for something to do, but there was nothing at all that he could think of. However the part of his brain that came up with stupid and reckless things, which seemed to be on a roll lately, popped another idea into his mind. 

Explore the house. After all, he'd be living here for the next two months. He had the invisibility cloak… he had time… and suddenly his spirits began to perk up. He'd have to be careful though. The cloak, wonderful as it was, didn't stop him making noise, or being solid. There was also the fact that he might stumble on some passage, get hopelessly lost, and they would find his skeleton years later. 

Checking the corridor, all seemed clear. Taking the cloak under his arm he made as if to go out of the door. However, just coming up the stairs was Snape. Hurriedly he shut the door and stuffed the cloak under the pillow. Snape passed the room and Harry heard the click of Snape's door. A few minutes later he heard footsteps again and he breathed a sigh of relief as he heard them go down the stairs. Donning the cloak he slipped out of his room and to the head of the stairs. There was no one there. 

He went to the opposite side of where the stairs began for that floor and taking care not to make any noise, he tried the various doors. Most of the doors were locked along the corridor, and he wandered along, trying random doors. Eventually he turned a corner and walked down. It was slightly eerie, walking where there was only silence, and he didn't know what was around the corner. For all he knew, Snape might have laid a mantrap there, or some horrible monster, like Fluffy. 

There wasn't really much there. There were a few open doors though, where the house-elf had obviously been dusting or something. The rooms were filled with old furniture, or were bare. 

As he walked past a branch off he tensed, startled. He had definitely heard a voice…

'…don't know what you were thinking Victoria…'

Intrigued, he tiptoed down the corridor. He figured he would be pretty safe considering he was invisible, and that no self-respecting member of the Dark Side would be called Victoria.

Reaching the end of the passage, he found the source of the voice. Hanging on a wall was a picture of two girls sitting on a bench, a large oak tree behind them. The girl on the right, nearest to him, had uncontrolled curly brown hair that reminded him very much of a mop. She wore an ankle length blue dress in a fabric that shimmered like water. 

The other girl was very different. She had light brown skin and her hair would have looked black, had it not been full sunlight. She was wearing a black and gold sari that sparkled when the sun caught it. 

"Tia, I happen to like this dress." said the curly-haired girl with dignity. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's too… oh I don't know. It's alright I suppose."

"Well why did you just say it wasn't?"

"It's fine Victoria. Its lovely."

The curly-haired girl, who Harry assumed was Victoria, gave her companion an exasperated glare.

"Are you looking at my nose?" said Tia, clapping her hands to her face.

"Tia, you have a lovely nose. It is one of the classic noses."

"It's not."

Victoria rolled her eyes. " It is." She sat back, and after a few seconds a smile spread over her face.

"Tia?"

"What?" she snapped, one hand still over her nose.

"Pancakes!"

"Pancakes?"

She nodded, an evil glint in her eye. Her friend suddenly gave a small shriek and slapped her.

Harry shook his head and turned away from the painting. The two girls were clearly insane. Tia's nose was perfectly alright, and what on earth had Victoria been going on about pancakes for?

He tensed as he thought he heard footsteps. He wasn't sure but he hurried back down the corridor and towards the stairs when he saw Snape at the foot of the stairs. Rushing slightly, he made his way back to his room and shut the door before taking off the cloak and again hiding it under his pillow. 

He didn't want to go out again, so he wandered into the bathroom with the objective of making it tidier. However in his absence it had been tidied and there was nothing to do.

A while later when he judged it to be safe, he put the cloak on again and slipped out. This time he found his way more quickly and was where he had left off. He went a bit further looking in rooms and trying to figure out what they had been. Some of the rooms were bare and empty. Others had more interesting things in them, such as collections of various items.  

There was a room full of wonderfully decorated silk covered folding screens. There were pictures of dragons, unicorns and other fantastic beasts. 

One particularly wonderful piece was black with snarling, snapping red and gold Chinese dragons picked out with bursts of fire in between. Another was a woman reclining on a couch wearing a sari. What was extraordinary about the screen was the detail and decoration that had gone into it. There were patterns picked out in semi-precious stones, and the folds of the clothes looked almost real. 

He stood there, moving and admiring the various picture and scenes, each a collectors item in itself. 

Eventually he walked on making sure that he closed the door and knew where it was. After this he came upon more locked doors and empty rooms. Not knowing what time it was he went back with as much speed and as little noise, not wanting to miss lunch. He gauged it to be around half-twelve and when he checked, safely in his room he was surprised that he was right. 

One o clock came and he made his way downstairs. Having spent the last three hours exploring he was by now quite hungry.

In the middle of some sort of fish with vegetables Hedwig swooped in and dumped a letter on the table. She then decided to stick her beak in Harry's water and then flew off, clearly desperate for a long sleep. Harry eyed the two letters with a certain amount of interest, as one was addressed to 'Whom it may concern'. He supposed that meant Snape and wondered who would be writing to him. However he picked it up and opened the envelope. 

Out came a folded note, and a letter. He picked up the letter, sat down in his seat and started to read. 

_'To whom it may concern, _

_                                                We wish to inform you that we are going on a summer holiday to Majorca and we would not be able to take our nephew back should you choose to throw him out._

_We take no responsibility for any damage caused to you, whether physical or mental. We enclose his birthday present and wish you good luck_

_Yours faithfully, _

_                            Mr. And Mrs. Dursley. '_

This was written on plain notepaper with a border of what looked like blue pansies. 

Snape had now finished and was going out of the door when Harry called

" It's for you Professor." Whirling round, Snape came back and took the letter from Harry. Harry picked up the note and scanned the contents

_'Can't take you back for any of the holiday, so don't get thrown out._

_Your birthday present is enclosed.'_

A very friendly letter.  Harry looked out of the corner of his eye at Snape who wore quite an odd expression as he read the letter. He finished it, and screwed it into a ball and took the note, from where it was lying on the table. He read that, and lifted an eyebrow. Harry was thinking that he had better get upstairs and fast when Snape picked up the envelope and pulled something out. 

" Potter, there seems to be a twig in the envelope."

" That'll be my present then."

" It's a twig." 

"Yeah."

" Do they often give you...er… _gifts_ ?"

The look on Snape's face was now priceless.

 Harry merely thought that the Dursleys had wanted to make a good impression on whoever he was staying with by sending him a present, after ignoring it for a couple of years. Or maybe they were feeling generous now that they didn't have to see him for two months. 

Snape seemed a little disturbed by Harry's reaction, as he looked completely nonchalant. 

Harry spoke at this point. 

" It's really nice of them to remember my birthday, actually. And no. "

He paused to enjoy the look on Snape's face. He looked… a little bit shocked, a little bit disbelieving, but Harry thought he was probably agreeing with the Dursleys. 

Back in his room, there was only one thing on his mind- exploring. He donned the Cloak once more, shut his door and slipped out. It took him less time to find where he was before, and to continue down from there. The doors down here were older than his and had a different look to his. 

Harry wandered for a while until he spotted a door that was ajar. Curious, he crept in and was rewarded by the sight of a single solitary painting hanging there. 

It was of a young girl. The name engraved on the frame was: 

"Ethel Snape. 1840-1852." 

Out of the picture, a black-haired, grey-eyed girl gazed defiantly out of a thin pointed face. She wore the severe old-fashioned pinafores of the era and her hair fell around her face. Harry watched with interest as she stretched suddenly and started to move. The expression on her face was that of boredom.

He made as if to go, but tripped over something on the floor. At the noise she fell off the chair she was sitting on and called out.

Harry took off his Cloak and looked at her. She stared back, her face guarded and unfriendly. For a moment neither spoke. She finally broke the silence.

" Who are you? And what are you doing here? You don't look the least bit like a Snape. " she asked. A friendly person to say the least. 

" Harry. And I'm not a Snape."

" Well what are you doing here? The house hasn't gone out of the family for centuries."

" I was… I was…."

"Looking around? Why are you here? There are more interesting places in the house."

This conversation was definitely going places. 

" Well I haven't found them yet. I'm not meant to be here though. Are you going to snitch on me?"

Ethel considered this. "No. I'm lonely as well and I haven't anyone to talk to either. The current Snape here… what's his name…. Severus, isn't much fun."

"You're telling me?" said Harry. "He's one of my teachers at school."

"Oh, so he is a teacher? I thought he was. What does he teach?"

The conversation progressed for a good half hour, through an epic description of the Potions dungeons, Harry's friends and Ethel's life, and then Harry gave her a recap of current affairs (she hadn't heard anything about the outside world for over a hundred years – she had never even heard of Voldemort!) 

"Well I talk to the other portraits," she said, "but no-one ever bothers to tell us anything. We're just pictures." she added bitterly.

Harry gave her a good recap of everything that had happened since Victorian times, as far as he could remember, and at Ethel's insistence told her about most of his own encounters with Voldemort (he did, however, leave out Cedric.)

They talked for quite a long time, until Harry realised that he really ought to get back before Snape realised he was in the locked up part of the house and made him do some particularly nasty chore.

He made his way back to his rooms, glad of another person to talk to after he came back from Ron's … only half a day away! Harry was in a better mood than previously. Meeting one of Snape's relatives in a picture was weird enough, but also that he should be looking forward to talking to them again?

After this there was really nothing to do. Ron and Hermione seemed an age away as he sat in his bedroom waiting for dinner. 

When it did come, as usual it was a silent meal, consisting of well… silence. Snape seemed more cheerful than usual, if it was possible. He seemed to be giving Harry less death glares than usual. He idly wondered whether Snape had seen any Muggle science-fiction movies before, in which the monster shoots out rays which kill the hapless victim… Harry in this case. 

 As he ate his way through some dish of meat and vegetables he reflected on the fact that tomorrow he could have real conversation with people. Not snakes, not pictures, but people. Snape didn't mention his trip to Ron's – he probably realised Harry knew already – so Harry left the room without uttering a single word, looking forward to tomorrow.

AN: Well thank you for reading and putting up with us! I think this is our longest chapter yet! Was it worth the wait? Tell us!


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